“Then you boys had better stop capering about and get busy on making a list of all we shall need. Then you can go to town to purchase the necessary articles.”
“Will we get busy?” cried Jack, sitting down at the desk and drawing up a sheet of paper and poising a pen above it:
“First article, please.”
After that the provisioning and stocking of the White Shark for what was to prove a long and adventurous period, went forward rapidly. After lunch the boys in their red runabout set out for Camwell, a suburb of Boston, where they were sure to be able to purchase everything necessary.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE VOICE IN THE DARK.
“Hush a minute, Tom! What was that?”
Jack, who was driving the little red flyer, brought the car and Tom’s tongue to a simultaneous halt.
It was after dark and the two lads were returning from Camwell with the car loaded down with what they had purchased. In fact, both of them were perched on the summit of a pile of boxes and bundles, every available nook and cranny being filled with articles for which their lists had called.
The spot where the car was brought to such an abrupt halt by Jack was a lonely one. On one side of the road, thick brush with tall, melancholy trees beyond, grew close down to the right of way. On the other, the outlines of a fair-sized barn bulked up black against the surrounding darkness, for the night was starless.