Louis Arundel - Motor Boat Boys on the St. Lawrence

Of course, they were set upon as soon as they entered the den in the top story of the Stormways home, and made to tell what had happened. When the balance of the club learned how neatly a spoke had been put in the wheel of Clarence, they voted thanks to Mr. Edison for all he had done in the interests of modern science.

And it can be set down as positive that those lads spent a much more healthy Sunday than would have been the case had their minds still wrestled with the problem of what the mysterious message sent by Clarence stood for.

Then came the final morning when they were scheduled to leave the home town, headed for the far distant Clayton, to begin their summer vacation.

A score and more of boys were at the station to see them depart, besides those persons who constituted the various families of the club members. Their baggage was properly seen to, and then the last goodbyes said. Clarence and his crony, Joe Brinker, came sauntering along, and stood watching the passing of the expedition.

“He can’t just help grinning all the time,” Buster said aside to Herb, as they were waiting at the car steps for Jack and George, still talking with a group of friends.

“Sure he is,” replied George, looking out of the corner of his eye, “and every little while he says something to Bully Joe that tickles him to beat the band. But we can afford to keep quiet, because we happen to know how the game is going. I’m putting my faith in Amos right along; he’s going to make good.”

“But why ain’t Clarence and Joe starting, too?” demanded Nick at this juncture.

“Oh! they’re too sly for that, you see,” George replied, knowingly, his lawyer blood standing him in good stead. “Like as not they’ve got through tickets right through Chicago, while we stop over in Milwaukee. And even if they slip away this afternoon they could get to Clayton as soon as we do.”

“There’s the conductor calling ‘all aboard!’ We’re off, fellows!” cried Buster, as he started to climb up the steps of the car, an operation that required more labor on his part than in the case of more agile lads.

The entire bunch grouped on the last platform of the parlor car at the end of the train, and as they pulled out, waved their hats in salute to the cheering of the crowd at the station.

Faster went the train, and presently a turn hid the home town from the sight of the six vacationists. If any of them felt badly over parting from loved ones they succeeded in concealing the fact as they passed inside to take their seats, and while looking from the windows at new scenes, lay delightful plans concerning the glorious time they anticipated would be their portion when they got fully started on their St. Lawrence river cruise.

“Well, here’s the steamboat dock, all right; but I don’t see anything of our boats!” exclaimed George, as he and his five chums came to a full stop close to the local office of the lake line running to Buffalo, Milwaukee and Chicago.

“Oh! dear me, I hope we don’t have trouble, after all,” started Nick.

“Here, let up on that misery whine, Buster. Will you ever learn never to squeal till you’re hurt?” said Josh.

“Well, if you’d lost as much flesh as I have lately, you’d be a nervous wreck too,” replied the fat boy, aggressively.

“If I’d lost all you say you have, there wouldn’t be anything more of me left than a grease spot, and that’s right!” grinned Josh.

“What shall we do, Jack?” and Herb turned to the one upon whom they usually depended to steer them clear of the shoals.

“Well, here’s the office right handy,” replied Jack, smiling. “Suppose we crowd inside, and make the agent give up some information. He ought to know what’s happened to our boats, because we understood they got here safe.”

“A bully idea, Jack; you’re the goods when it comes to doing the right thing!” Josh remarked.

Accordingly they fell in line, and rushed into the little office, where a gentlemanly fellow, who was working at some freight accounts, in his shirt sleeves, because of the heat of the day, glanced up in more or less surprise.

“We’re looking for some motor boats, sir, that arrived on the vessel from the west. They were billed from Milwaukee by your line.”

As Jack said this the agent smiled.

“Which one of you wired our Mr. Matthews?” he asked.

“I did. My name is Jack Stormways,” replied that individual.

“You gave him authority to turn the three boats over to some party, didn’t you?”

“Yes, if that party’s name was Mr. Amos Spofford,” Jack replied.

“All right. We gave them into his keeping. Let me see, that was last Saturday afternoon about one o’clock he was here,” the other went on.

“But,” Jack remarked, blankly, “we’ve been looking all around, and have seen no sign of our boats on the wharf.”

“And they couldn’t have flown away like aeroplanes,” put in Josh.

“I should hardly think so,” laughed the other. “But have you looked beyond the end of the dock, in the water?”

“No. Do you mean to say Mr. Spofford had the three boats launched?” cried Jack.

“Well, there was something doing that way, I remember, on Saturday. He had quite a gang of men working under him. That Mr. Spofford seems to be something of a hustler. Over toward that point, boys.”

They were already trooping across the big dock, as excited as any eager lads could be. And no sooner had they reached a certain point than a series of whoops burst from every throat.

“There they are, fellows! Don’t they make a bully show, though, the brave little boats? Say, ain’t this like old times again?” cried Nick, as he discovered the three craft anchored close together at a point where they would not be in the way of any steamboat landing.

“There’s somebody aboard, too!” exclaimed Jack, as a head was poked out of the deck tent of the Comfort , which was the only one of the trio to be thus honored, the others being in cruising trim.

“That must be Mr. Amos Spofford,” declared Herb; “and he knows a good sleeping boat when he sees it, too; for you notice he’s camped in the Old Reliable.”

Jack waved his hand, and then called out.

“We’re coming aboard. Are you Mr. Spofford?”

“That’s my name. Glad to see you, boys. Come right along. You won’t be fired into the harbor if you try to get aboard!” came back the answering hail.

“Gee! I wonder if that’s what happened to Jared,” remarked Nick, as the party made for the landing, where a rowboat could be obtained in which to paddle out to the anchored flotilla.

Every boy had his eyes glued on the boat that, to his mind, represented all that was delightful. Many a happy day and night had they spent aboard these same craft in times that were gone; and the future opened up possibilities just as joyous.

One by one they climbed aboard the Comfort and shook hands with the jolly old gentleman whom they found there. None of the other boats could have accommodated them as readily as the big launch.

“Glad you got here safe and sound, boys. I imagine this is Jack Stormways. Introduce me to your chums, please, Jack. Told you not to worry. Camped right here ever since getting your message. Would have stayed a week if necessary, because you see I happen to be an old bachelor, without any family ties. Greatest pleasure I’ve had for many a year. Used to knock about myself, once upon a time, before I took on flesh. And let me tell you, lads, you’ve got the greatest little cruising outfits here I ever set eyes on. In my day we never knew such comforts, any more than we did such bully boats.”

In this fashion did Mr. Amos Spofford rattle on, for he was a great talker, and a retired lawyer as well. He quite staggered poor Buster by the immensity of his girth; for he was simply tremendous , and no mistake.