Not much time was required to get Cassidy's property into his ditty-bag, and not much more time for the captain to pack his own satchel. The colored servant had telephoned for a carriage, and the vehicle came just as the captain had finished packing.
All that remained was to settle with Mrs. Thomas, the landlady, to thank her for her kindness, and to leave for downtown.
Twenty minutes after the departure of Cassidy and Clackett the captain was speeding away in the direction of Canal Street. He halted at a bank, at the corner of Camp and Common, and drew five thousand dollars in gold. This money was given to him in a canvas bag, and, with that and his luggage, he was hurried on to Stuyvesant Dock.
As he had surmised would be the case, he was ahead of the Grampus. Gathering his goods about him, he sat down on a box near the edge of the dock and watched up stream for the first glimpse of the rounded deck, the conning tower, and the mast with the red periscope ball of the submarine.
Barely had he sighted her, cutting through the waves of the Lower Mississippi, when a quick step behind him caused him to look around.
Clackett, red-faced and perspiring, was hurrying toward him. There was a troubled, ominous look on Clackett's face.
"Where are Motor Matt and his two friends, Dick Ferral and Carl Pretzel?" cried the captain. "I need them on this cruise, and they understand the importance of their being here. Will they be along later, Clackett?"
"They'll not be along later, cap'n," answered Clackett. "You can wait for 'em as long as you please, an' the boys won't be showing up. Every minute you lose, too, the Santa Maria and Jim Sixty are gettin' farther and farther away from us."
A frown of heavy disappointment wrinkled the captain's brows.
"What's the matter?" he demanded. "Motor Matt's word is as good as his bond, and he told me he'd stay in New Orleans a week and wait for me to send word to him. Where is the boy?"