“Well, we’ve already had considerable fun out of this,” declared Jack, joining them and leaving Mr. Temple and Doctor Marley to continue with the naval officer.
“Haven’t we, though,” agreed Frank. “Why, when we get back to Harrington Hall in the fall, and tell the fellows about this——”
“And about our Mexican border adventures, too,” supplemented Jack.
“Huh. They’ll think we’re awful liars,” said Bob.
Mr. Temple turned and beckoned to them to approach.
“We are going to turn about and make a run for the Bear,” he said. “Ensign Warwick believes this fog will not lift for some time, and that the trawler has pretty well given us the slip.”
“Well, he’s in command,” said Frank, ruefully, “but I did hope we’d capture the trawler. I don’t care so much about capturing ‘Black George,’ although it’s a pity to let him slip through our fingers. But, do you realize that we’re not very presentable for polite society? I’d like to recover our wardrobes.”
For the first time it was borne in upon them that Mr. Temple, Bob and Frank were, indeed, scantily clad, and that most of their possessions were aboard the trawler. In their haste to act quickly in seizing the radio room, all but Jack had set forth clad only in shirt and trousers. They were even without shoes. In their excitement theretofore, none had thought of this.
“Fortunately, they did not take my wallet,” said Mr. Temple, pulling it from a pocket, and examining the contents. “I have plenty of money here, so that as soon as we reach port somewhere we can send Jack ashore to buy us some clothing.”
“We’re a fine-looking bunch of thugs, now, though, Dad,” said big Bob. “You and I both need a shave badly. Frank and Jack have such light whiskers, you can’t tell whether they’ve shaved or not.”
This was a cruel thrust at which Bob’s two chums bridled. Bob’s whiskers were heavy, and he had been shaving for years. Frank and Jack, however, only recently had taken on man’s estate in this respect.
“Some folks are proud of being hairy as an ape,” said Frank cuttingly.
Big Bob merely laughed good-naturedly, and ruffled his smaller chum’s hair.
Ensign Warwick with difficulty suppressed a grin.
“I can let you have razors,” he said, “and probably we can find shoes for all of you of some sort. But I have no civilian clothes, and it would be against regulations for you to wear uniforms.”