CHAPTER IX

NEWS OF NODDY

For several seconds no one spoke. The boys stood staring at one another and the agent started to go away, evidently believing he had done his part.

“Can you give us any particulars?” asked Jerry at last. “Where is the boat? Perhaps we can have it fixed.”

“It’s at Longwood, about ten miles from here,” the agent replied, “but there’s no trains to-night. Yo’-uns will have to wait until mornin’.”

“I’ll never sleep a wink,” declared Ned. “Think of the _Dartaway_ being smashed!” And he gave something like a groan.

“If she is smashed the railroad company will have to pay heavy damages,” declared Jerry. “They’ve spoiled our whole vacation trip! Can’t you give us any particulars?” he went on, turning to the agent. “Maybe we could hire a carriage and drive to Longwood. We’ve got to find out something about our boat.”

“Yes, I guess yo’ could drive there,” the agent replied. “But I wouldn’t advise yo’ to, after dark. The roads are bad and dangerous. Why can’t yo’ wait until mornin’?”

“We’re too anxious,” declared Bob.

“Can’t we telegraph?” inquired Ned.

“The telegraph office is closed after supper,” announced the agent, and, with their last hope gone, of getting any particulars that night, the boys turned away. They went back to the hotel.

“We’ll tell the professor,” said Bob. “Maybe he can help us out.”

When the scientist was made acquainted with the news he was much surprised.

“That spoils my plan of catching the prize butterfly,” he remarked. “I’ve got to make other arrangements.”

“Did you ever have anything lost by a railroad?” asked Jerry.

“Once.”

“Was it smashed?”

“Partly.”

“What did you do to find it and get it back?”

“Oh, the railroad company was glad enough to assist me,” answered the scientist.

“How?” inquired Jerry, and the boys looked interested.

“Why I once shipped a case of very valuable white rats,” Mr. Snodgrass went on. “It was in a wreck, or something, and the railroad lost track of the case; I couldn’t get trace of it. But in a little while I received urgent letters calling on me to take my white rats away. It seems the case had been side tracked after the accident and sent to a lonely station where the agent was a woman. The rats got loose and frightened her almost to death. She wired to headquarters threatening to resign unless the rats were taken away. In that way the claim agent heard--”

But what the professor was going to say he never finished, for, at that moment some kind of a bug came flying into the room through the opened window, and the scientist was after it at once. With his long-handled net in his hand he pursued the insect about the room.

“Now I have it!” Mr. Snodgrass cried as the bug alighted on the upper part of the door. He was bringing his upraised net down to catch it when the portal opened and a colored man entered, bearing a pitcher of ice water. His head came just in the right place and an instant later the professor had brought his net down on the woolly pate of the negro.

The startled colored man dropped the pitcher of water, which splashed all over himself and the professor, and then the darky let out a yell.

“I’m cotched! He’s got me in de net! I’m a gone coon! Leggo! I ain’t done nuffin! It were Sam Johnson as done it! Please, good Mr. Man let me go!”

He struggled to get the net off his head, and the professor endeavored to assist him, but their efforts only seemed to make the mosquito-fabric cling the tighter, until the yells of the colored man brought several guests out into the corridor on the run, thinking the hotel might be afire.

“Help ’em, Ned!” called Jerry, who was laughing so he could not go to the aid of the two.

“Help ’em yourself,” responded Ned, almost doubled up with mirth at the sight of the struggling figures.

At length the two managed to extricate themselves, and the professor, taking his net from the colored man’s head, carefully examined it for possible rents.

“Did I hurt you?” asked the scientist.

“No, I cain’t ’zactly say as how ’yo hurted me,” the colored man replied with a grin, “but yo’ done mos’ scaired me t’ def!”

“I’m very sorry,” went on Mr. Snodgrass. “I was after a bug!”

“I thought yo’ were after me!” and the bearer of the ice water gazed at the broken pitcher.

“Well, here’s something to buy salve for your head,” and the professor gave the man a half dollar.

“Landy! Fo’ bits!” exclaimed the delighted negro.

None of the boys slept well that night, on account of thinking about their boat. All hoped against hope that it might not be so badly damaged but what it could be repaired.

They paid an early visit to the railroad office, the professor going with them. Mr. Snodgrass, in spite of his scientific training, knew how to talk business, and he soon had the agent wiring for particulars concerning the motor boat.

“Tell ’em to send it here, no matter how badly it’s smashed,” put in Jerry.

“Yes, we want our boat,” added Bob.

“In a hurry,” was Ned’s contribution to the general orders.

“My, but yo’ folks from the North are in a powerful rush,” observed the agent with a smile. “We-uns down here take life easier. I’ll do my best for yo’. The night man left word that yo’ uns was frettin’ an’ stewin’ about yo’ boat. Yo’ uns is jest like another feller from the North. He was here a while ago, an’ he were raisin’ Hail Columbia ’cause the train was behind time. Said he were goin’ to his cocoanut plantation near Lake Okeechobee an’ wanted to git there in a hurry.”

“Cocoanut plantation?” asked Jerry, a sudden idea coming into his brain.

“Yep; that’s what he said. Looked rather young to be ownin’ a plantation. He was about the age of yo’ lads. Seemed to think a good deal of himself, an’ give a powerful lot of orders.”

“What was his name?” asked Ned eagerly.

“Let’s see, now. It was a curious sort of name. Shaky--no, it wasn’t Shaky--Sleepy--no, that ain’t it either--Noddy--that’s what it was. Noddy Nixon!”

“Noddy Nixon down here!” cried Jerry. “How long ago?”

“He was at this station a week ago to-day,” replied the agent. “Had to stay over one night because he missed a train, and he tried to make out it was my fault.”

“Just like Noddy,” murmured Ned. “So he’s down here? Maybe we’ll meet him.”

“Hope not,” remarked Jerry.

“Hark!” exclaimed the agent, as he listened to the clicking of the telegraph instrument. “There’s a message from Longwood. It’s about you’ boat.”