"I could have kissed the book on that, Matt," said Dick soberly. "Keelhaul me if I don't wish we had that blessed little flying machine this minute."
"So do I. But there's no use crying about it, Dick. Maybe we'll build another, some time; just now, though, we ought to think more about bed than anything else."
"I'm ready to do a caulk, if you are."
"Come on, then."
As they were leaving the office to go upstairs to their room Matt took a look around. Captain Sixty was sitting in a chair in the corner, his message opened out on his knee. But his fishy little orbs were not on the message, but on Matt; and there was a glittering distrust in them which Matt could not fail to notice. However, he said nothing about it to Dick, and very soon forgot it himself.
Next morning the boys were hoping to hear from Townsend. Townsend, otherwise Captain Nemo, Jr., of the submarine Grampus, had some work in which he wanted Matt and his friends to assist him, and he had asked Matt, Dick and Carl to remain a week in New Orleans, at his expense, until he should be well enough to tell them about the work and get it under way.
The following day rounded out the period of time Townsend had asked for.
After breakfast the boys hung about the hotel waiting for some communication from Prythania Street. Toward the middle of the forenoon a bell boy ran into the office and hurried to the place where Matt was sitting with Dick and Carl.
"You're wanted in the parlor, Motor Matt," said the boy.
"Dere id vas!" exclaimed Carl delightedly. "Ve got id now, Tick."