CHAPTER I

WHAT THE POSTMAN BROUGHT

The shrill vibration of the postman’s whistle brought Bob Baker to the front door on the run.

“Only a postal!” he exclaimed as the mail-man handed it to him. “It’s for me though. Wonder what it is?”

He turned it over and glanced at what seemed to be only a printed form with, here and there, a word written in.

“What’s it all about?” mused Bob.

Carefully he went through the lines of printing and writing. They resolved themselves into a notice that at the freight station of the Atlantic & Northern Railroad there was a piece of merchandise shipped from the International Gas Engine Company, which article could be had on application to the freight agent.

“It’s our motor boat!” exclaimed Bob. “It’s come! Hurrah! I must hurry over and tell Ned and Jerry! Whoop! I’m glad it’s Saturday. We can put in the whole day getting the boat from the station. Hurrah!”

“Is anything the matter, Bob?” asked Mrs. Baker, coming to the head of the stairs and looking at her son, who, at that instant was standing on his head in the lower hall.

“Matter? I should say there was, mother!” he cried, jumping to an upright position. “Our motor boat’s here!”

“Oh dear!” exclaimed Mrs. Baker. “Now I suppose you’ll be going off on cruises which will be worse than the automobile trips.”

“Worse? Better you mean, mother,” remarked Bob. “But I must run over to Ned’s house. Where’s my hat?”

“Where did you leave it?”

“I don’t know,” replied the boy, who seldom could keep track of the head covering. “Never mind, it’s warm, I’ll go without it.”

He ran from the house into the pleasant spring sunshine, and soon was racing down the street toward the home of one of his chums, Ned Slade. Reaching there he gave a shrill whistle on his fingers.

“What is it?” asked Ned, poking his head out of a window.

“She’s here!” shouted Bob.

“What! Our boat?”

“Sure! Just got a postal from the freight office. Come on, we’ll get Jerry and have the boat taken to the river. Shiver my timbers, I can hardly wait! Hurry up, Ned!”

Ned needed no urging, and soon the two boys were at Jerry Hopkins’ house. He was not home, but his mother told his chums where they could find him, and they started off to a neighbor’s house, where Jerry had gone on an errand.

The three boys had gone into partnership in the purchase of a motor boat. They lived in Cresville, Mass. Bob Baker was the son of a rich banker, while Ned Slade’s father was the proprietor of a large department store. Jerry Hopkins was the son of a well-to-do widow.

The lads had been chums for a number of years, and had been closely associated in a series of adventures which began with the purchase of motor cycles and which were destined to be continued with the acquisition of the motor boat.

As told in the first volume of this series, “The Motor Boys,” the three took part in some bicycle races under the auspices of the Cresville Athletic Club. They won, but in doing so incurred the enmity of Noddy Nixon, a town bully, whose wealth had made him a spoiled son. One of the chums won a motor cycle as a prize and, soon after this the other boys also discarded their bicycles for the more rapid vehicles.

They had many adventures on the motor cycles, in some of which Noddy Nixon played a prominent, if a mean part. The boys entered a motor cycle race and were successful, winning the first prize, a big automobile touring car. Because of a robbery at a local mill Noddy Nixon had to flee from Cresville, running off one night in his father’s automobile.

In the second book, “The Motor Boys Overland,” I told of how Ned, Bob and Jerry started west. They had many exciting adventures, being put to considerable trouble by Noddy, who heard of their trip and followed them. The motor boys got permission from their folks to search for an old mine which a prospector whom they befriended told them of. They found the mine with the help of Jim Nestor, and secured possession, though they had a close race with Nixon, and two of his cronies, Jack Pender and also Bill Berry, a Cresville ne’er-do-well.

The mine proved to be a rich one, and the shares the boys received were considerable. They arranged to have Jim Nestor work the claim for them, as he was the largest shareholder, because of having known of the mine previously.

But the finding of the mine did not end the adventures of the motor boys. They had picked up on their trip west an old professor, Uriah Snodgrass, who had heard of a buried city in Mexico. The boys resolved to start for that country and got permission to go.

On the way many things occurred, as related in the third book of the series, “The Motor Boys in Mexico.” They had fights with Mexicans, and their old enemy Noddy Nixon turned up to bother them. There were fights with wild animals and reptiles, and by a plot between Noddy and some rascally Mexicans, Bob was captured, but later got away.

The buried city was found most unexpectedly by the auto sinking through the earth upon a concealed passageway. There were strange happenings in the long-lost city, and the professor discovered a valuable box of jewels.

The young travelers then resolved to make a trip across the prairies and in the fourth book of the series, called “The Motor Boys Across the Plains,” I told of their exciting journey. An old hermit was found who proved to be the father of a boy that the three chums rescued from a desperate gang. Later the hermit was of much assistance to the motor boys, since the gang was trying to get possession of the mine. The hermit was one of the original owners of the claim, and through him the mine was kept in the power of the boys and Nestor. The claim was found to be paying better than ever; and, after defeating the gang that sought to get it, the motor boys came home, having been away a long time.

Their parents, no less than their friends and relatives in Cresville, were glad to see them, and it took the lads several days to tell of their adventures. The mine, the possession of which was kept in a sort of company formed by the boys, their parents and Jim Nestor, paid well, and it was with some of the proceeds that the boys bought a motor boat.

They still kept their automobile, but as they had arrived home in the fall, and as the winter, which soon came, was an unusually severe one, they had little chance to go out in the touring car.

They had resumed their studies, all three of them attending the Cresville Academy. It was now the close of May and in another month they would finish the term.

Ned and Bob hurried to where Mrs. Hopkins had said Jerry could be found. He was just leaving to come home.

“Hey!” called Bob, catching sight of him. “The boat’s come, Jerry!”

“Really?”

“Sure! Got a postal! Come on to the freight yard!”

The boys, whose spirits were bubbling over with excitement ran, rather than walked, to the freight house. They went up the platform steps by jumps and burst in on the agent, who was busy over waybills.

“Where is it, Mr. Hitter?” gasped Bob.

“Where’s what?” asked Mr. Hitter, peering over the tops of his glasses.

“Why our motor boat.”

“I don’t know nothin’ about no motor boats,” said the agent, preparing to go on with his work.

The hearts of the boys began to sink. Suppose the boat had been lost in shipment?

“But this postal says it has arrived,” persisted Bob showing what the letter carrier had given him.

“Oh that,” said Mr. Hitter. “Well, yes, there is a piece of freight as big as a house addressed to you. But I didn’t s’pose it was a boat. I took it for a specimen of a whale that I thought Professor Snodgrass had ketched while you an’ him was down in Mexico. It’s boxed up jest like a whale. I’ll bet it is a whale, Bob.”

“Where is it?” cried the boys in chorus.

“Down at th’ t’other end of th’ platform. But look out it don’t bite ye! I’ll bet it’s a shark if ’tain’t a whale,” and Mr. Hitter chuckled heartily.

The boys raced down the platform. At the end, where it had just been taken from a flat car, was a long box, measuring about twenty-seven by ten, by seven feet. Indeed it did look as if it contained the remains of some prehistoric monster.

“Hurrah! This is it!” cried Ned, as he read from a paper pasted on the big box:

“_One motor boat. This side up with care._”

“Get a hammer and we’ll unpack it!” cried Bob. “Where’s an axe?”

“Now ye’d better go slow, boys,” cautioned Mr. Hitter, coming up at this juncture. “Was ye calalatin’ to sail right here from th’ depot down th’ main street?”

“That’s so, I forgot you have to have water for a boat,” spoke Bob, wiping the perspiration from his forehead, for he was quite fat, and the excitement made him warm.

“You’ll have to make haste slowly, Chunky,” said Ned, applying to him the nick-name Bob’s chums sometimes used.

“How are we going to get it home?” asked Jerry.

“Can’t ye carry it on yer shoulders?” asked Mr. Hitter with a laugh.

“I’ll bet it weighs a ton,” spoke Bob.

“Nearer two, accordin’ t’ th’ way bill,” chimed in the freight agent. “Now I tell ye what t’ do. Leave it right in th’ box. Go off an’ git Hen Jaegers, who’s got th’ biggest truck in town t’ cart it t’ the river for ye. Then ye won’t damage it. Jest come in an’ sign the receipt an’ let Hen do th’ rest. If ye carried it yerselves ye might drop it, an’ damage the spark plug or whatever it is makes it go,” and he laughed again at his joke.

The boys decided this would be the best to do. Bob, to whom the boat was consigned, put his signature to the receipt, and then the lads hurried to the office of the truckman.

“I wonder if we can try it to-night?” asked Jerry.

“Guess so,” put in Ned. “I’ve been reading the catalog and directions until I know ’em by heart.”

“Do you remember when we first got the motor cycles and how one got going and we couldn’t stop it?” asked Ned.

“Sure. And when we first got the auto,” chimed in Bob.

“That reminds me of something I almost forgot,” spoke Jerry. “Did you hear the news?”

“What news?” came from Ned and Bob.

“About Noddy Nixon. He’s coming back. His father has fixed everything up, I understand.”

“You don’t say so!” exclaimed Ned. “Well, he’s got nerve after what he did to us, trying to rob us of the mine and putting those Mexicans up to kidnap Bob. I’d like to give him a good threshing.”

“I’ll bet he’ll make trouble for us,” said Bob. “I’ll be worried about our motor boat all the while it’s on the river, as long as Noddy Nixon is in town.”

“Nonsense, he’ll not interfere with us any more,” came from Jerry.

“Well, I’m no calamity howler,” put in Bob, “but I’ll bet we are going to have more trouble with Noddy.”

And after events showed that Bob had guessed rightly.