"What will you sell her for?" asked Clyde.
"Come, now, is this a joke, or what?" grinned the broker. "Has your uncle suddenly opened his heart, or have you come into possession of your property?"
"Neither," replied the boy, gravely, "but if you will sell me the yacht on a note—"
"On a note, eh? Well, isn't this rich? What is your note worth?"
"Nothing, I know, Mr. Leeds; but it will be some day. I can't pay you now, but when I am old enough to draw a note I will pay it."
The broker looked at the boy steadily for a moment.
"Clyde, something is up," he said. "What is it?"
"It all comes out of that 'pointer' you gave me this afternoon. I am going to leave home to escape being driven away."
"Phew!" whistled the broker. "Tell me about it."
And Clyde went over the whole story from beginning to end, and gave a graphic description of the plot to send him to Australia.