The boys were up at the first crack of day, packing up their few belongings, taking down their tents, and pulling out their little launch and concealing it back among the bushes. By sunrise they were at Jupiter, having rowed over in the skiff, which they hauled out and left, feeling confident that it would not be molested until they returned.
They found, upon inquiry at the little station, that the train would not arrive until nine o'clock.
"Want tickets?" inquired the station agent, who had answered their questions.
"No," said Charley. "We are waiting for Mr. Murphy. He's coming up on the train to take us out to camp. We have bought out his machine and contracts."
"Whew!" whistled the agent. "What did you pay him?"
"We got the whole outfit for $3,000," said Charley proudly.
"Good Lord!" murmured the agent. "Cash or check?"
"Check on the Bank of West Palm Beach," answered Charley less proudly.
The agent glanced at the clock. "Ten minutes of nine," he said musingly. "The bank opens at eight. You have got a chance--just a bare chance." He shoved over a pad of telegraph blanks. "Just wire the bank to stop payment on that check."
"Because, it's a rotten proposition," declared the agent earnestly; "rotten all the way through. If you can stop payment on that check you'll save losing $3,000, that's all."
Reluctantly Charley filled in a blank and shoved it over to the agent, who clicked it off rapidly on the key. When he had finished he came around from behind the partition. "It was none of my business, butting in in that way," he apologized, "but I hate to see a man robbed of his money."
"DO you mean to say that Mr. Murphy does not own the machine, the contract, and all the equipment?" Charley asked.
"Oh, I guess he owns the stuff out there, all right," said the agent. "The point is, that in a year's time he has only completed ten miles of the road, and, if you have read the contract over carefully, you will have noticed that it calls for the completion of the road in two years, or the contractor is liable to forfeit the machine itself. There remains thirty miles to do within a year. And that thirty miles is far harder to do than the ground Murphy has gone over. He has lost thousands of dollars upon the work he has done. I hardly blame him for trying to catch a sucker."