"Yes," answered Matt. "We're to sail at ten o'clock for Belize, in British Honduras."
Carl slumped into a chair with a gasp.
"Pridish Honturas!" he gurgled. "Vere iss dot? Ofer py China someveres?"
"It's in Central America, you saphead!" cried Dick. "I've been in those waters, and I'm a Feejee if they ever took much of my fancy."
"Miss Harris brought our tickets," proceeded Matt, "and she's going to sail on the same boat."
"Vat are ve to do ven ve ged dere?"
"Wait for instructions from Townsend."
"Then Townsend isn't sailing with us, mate?"
"No."
"Well, keelhaul me, it's a queer course that's been laid for us. What makes it queerer is, that in all the time we've been hooked up with Townsend he's never once mentioned his niece."