"Townsend is an odd chap, in some ways, but he's as straight as a string for all that," returned the young motorist. "This work in Honduras, I feel pretty sure, has something to do with the girl."
"I like dot," spoke up Carl, kneeling on his rusty old suit-case in order to make the cover go down. "Peauty in tisdress alvays cuts some ice mit me. Dere! I vas alretty for anyding vat comes my vay."
"I'm ready, too," added Dick.
"And I," said Matt, picking up his satchel.
They left the room hurriedly. At the bottom of the stairs Matt handed his grip to one of the porters.
"Carry that over to the Fruit Company's dock," said he. "Dick, you and Carl go on. I'll square up with the proprietor and trail along after you."
"Mind dot you don't get left," cautioned Carl.
"I've ten minutes," was the answer, "and I can get to the dock in half that time."
Dick, Carl and the porter hastened off, and Matt turned back into the office. He was only two or three minutes settling the bill, and as he started for the hotel door he passed a telephone booth and an idea came to him.