"And our man won't have that amount in cash, either. I'd be almost afraid to take that amount of real money, at night. If Mr. Forrester is willing to do something pleasant for us, it will be in the form of a check, of course."
"I'd like to come out all right with Mr. Forrester, of course," Hal admitted. "But, to tell the truth, I haven't been thinking much about Jack, old fellow, all my real thoughts are on our wonderful chance to be part of the trial crew of the 'Pollard.'"
"Same here," admitted Benson. "Say, money does look rather small, compared with a chance like ours. Now, doesn't it?"
So they hardly mentioned Mr. Forrester on the rest of that cool, delightful drive. Arrived at Waverly Center, however, they had to inquire the way to the Forrester house. They found it, a comfortable though not pretentious house. The owner was at home, and saw them at once.
"May we see you alone, Mr. Forester?" asked Jack Benson, respectfully.
"Is it as bad as all that?" laughed their host, I a pleasant-faced, rather bald man past forty. "Come into my little den, then."
He conducted them to a small room that looked as though it served partly the purposes of library and partly of office.
"Now, what can I do for you?" inquired Mr. Forrester.
"We represent Mr. Farnum, of Dunhaven," began Jack, slowly.
"Farnum? Oh, yes, the boat-builder. He must know that I don't want anything new in his line, and on any other business I imagine he would have sent someone—er—older."