Part 12 (1/2)

”I shall miss you very much,” she said, with tears in her eyes. Her lively nephews were as dear to her as if they were her own sons.

”You'd better go along, Aunt Martha,” said d.i.c.k.

”We'd like it first-rate,” added Sam.

”It might help us to keep out of mischief,” came from Tom, with a bright smile.

”No, I'll stay at home with your uncle, boys. But do take care of yourselves, and come home safe.”

”Oh, there will be no danger in this trip,” said d.i.c.k, but he was mistaken--there was to be great peril and of an unusual kind. If the treasure hunters could have seen what was before them they would not have started off in such a confident frame of mind.

The train was a little late, but presently it rolled into the station and the trunks and other baggage were hoisted aboard. Then came the final embraces and the boys climbed up the steps, followed by their father and Aleck.

”Hurrah, we are off at last!” cried Tom, and waved his cap enthusiastically. The others did the same, and then the train started and Oak Run quickly faded from sight. As the boys settled down in their seats a lad came from another car and moved swiftly toward them.

”Songbird, by all that's lucky!” cried d.i.c.k, and caught the other by the hand.

”I thought you'd be on this train,” answered Songbird Powell. ”I got your wire last night that you would stop off at New York. I am going to stop, too--to see an uncle of mine on a little business.”

”Then you'll travel with us to Philadelphia?” queried Sam.

”Sure.”

”Good! Tom was just saying he'd like some of the others along.”

”When I got your invitation I danced a jig of delight,” went on Songbird. ”I just couldn't help it. Then I sat down and wrote----”

”A piece of poetry about it thirty-five stanzas long,” finished Tom.

”No, Tom, there are only six verses. You see I couldn't help it--I was so chuck full of enthusiasm. The poem begins like this:

”'Twas a peaceful, summer night, When all the stars were s.h.i.+ning bright, There came a rap on our house door Which made me leap from bed to floor.

To me had come a telegram From my old chums, d.i.c.k, Tom and Sam Asking if I had a notion To sail with them upon the ocean.

To skim along on waters blue----”

”And then and there get seasick, too,” finished Tom. ”Don't forget to put in about the seasickness, Songbird--it always goes with a voyage, you know.”

”Seasick!” snorted the would-be poet. ”Who ever heard of seasickness in a poem? The next line is this:

”And see so many sights quite new, To rest in quiet day by day And watch the fishes at their play.”

”That's the first verse. The second begins----”

”Save it, Songbird, until we're on the yacht,” interrupted Sam. ”We'll have more time to listen then.”

”All right,” answered the would-be poet cheerfully. ”I want to fix up some of the lines anyhow. I've got 'harm' to rhyme with 'storm' and it doesn't quite suit me.”

”Never mind--a storm often does great harm,” said d.i.c.k. ”You can easily fix it up by throwing out both words, you know.”

After that the talk drifted around to the matter of the treasure hunt and Songbird was given some of the details, in which he became much interested. He declared that he thought the trip on the steam yacht would be even more interesting than the one on the houseboat had been.