“The ayes have it, then,” said Mr. Sands. “Well, my plan is this: I’ve found out that I can charter the small sloop Arrow, Lemuel Vinton, owner and master,—you remember him, Alec?—and engage his services as captain. For crew, he’ll have you four boys and a certain young man from my New York office whom I’m sending over to Havana on business. His name is Roy Norton; he’s a good sailor, and one of the most sensible and likable young men I’ve ever had the good fortune to know. I’ll expect you boys to stand by him as your leader on this trip, just as you would if he were George Rawson or your scout master, Denmead.”
“Is he a scout?” asked Alec.
“I believe so; anyway, he knows a lot about scoutcraft, and he’s deeply interested in it. He was delighted when I suggested his going on this trip.”
“Aren’t you going too, Dad?”
“Sorry, I can’t. I’m obliged to go out to Chicago next week. Business. But Norton’ll manage you chaps better than I could; he knows the ropes. He’ll go as far as Key West with you. You’ll leave him there and come back in the sloop, under strict sailing orders from Captain Vinton. Mind you, I want each one of you to give me his word to render prompt and willing obedience to any instructions you may receive, either from Norton or from the captain.”
“We promise,” replied the three Scouts. To himself Alec added: “Hope this man Norton isn’t going to boss us around like four kids! George Rawson and Chief Denmead never do that. They never have to; a few words are enough! Wonder what Norton’ll be like?”
Mr. Sands rose from his chair.
“What train is Hugh coming on?” he asked, consulting his watch.
“Why, Dad! You know there’s only one a day now arriving at Claynor. It’s due at eleven-eighteen.”
“Well, you’d better be on the jump toward the garage, if you’re going to drive the car over to meet that train. You’ve only a little more than an hour.”