The six o'clock train the next night brought with it the Codfish in all his glory. He was radiant in a natty gray flannel suit, and sported a lavender tie and socks to match, with a dash of the same color in his hat band.

"Welcome to our city, Codfish!" shouted Frank, who with Jimmy and Lewis had been at the station long before the train from the north was due.

"Gentlemen," returned that individual as he descended mincingly from the parlor car, while a porter dragged two great suit-cases stuffed to bursting after him, "I am charmed with this reception. But where's the band?"

"The only one I see," said Jimmy laughingly, "is the one on your hat, and it sounds like a flock of trombones. Don't you know you are liable to shock these sedate villagers with that raiment of yours? You might be arrested as a disturber of the peace."

"You see in me not a shocker," replied the visitor, "but the great animator. Business will pick up as soon as I am well established in your rural midst. Children cry for me and all that sort of thing. But what's this job you have for me?"

"Oh, I'm sorry to say it's all off. We were about to telegraph you again to stay where you were, when we had your message saying you were coming."

"All right, I'll take the next train back."

"You'll take nothing back for about three weeks. We'll tell you what we had up our sleeve. Here, Jones"—to the village expressman—"take these miniature trunks down to my father's house," said Frank. "We'll walk, if you feel able to take so much exercise, Mr. Gleason."

"Not used to it, of course, but I'll make an exception this time. Now, fire away on this scheme of yours."

As they trudged along, Frank, aided by Jimmy and occasionally by Lewis, told of the conception and the smash of the scheme. "But never mind," he added, "we can find enough to do. We'll teach you to swim like a fish——"

"No, you won't. I'm not a fish in spite of my name. I will fight before I'll swim, and goodness knows I'd hate to fight, for it's most exhausting."

The boys all laughed at the whimsical Codfish, for they all knew that he wasn't half so backward in athletic things as he tried to persuade them that he was.

"Hello," said Frank, giving a whistle of surprise as he approached the house. "We have company. By crickets, it is—it is Mr. Simpkins! Now, I wonder if his little girl hasn't got over her ducking yet."

"Principal people of the village here undoubtedly to welcome me," said the Codfish. "'Spose I'll have to make a speech and all that sort of thing. Beastly bore; you shouldn't have let them know I was coming."

By this time Frank had mounted the steps of the house. "This is my son Frank, Mr. Simpkins," said Mr. Armstrong.

Frank came forward and received a hearty handclasp from Mr. Simpkins. "My boy," said the latter, "when you were at my house this morning, I little thought that I'd have to thank you for saving my daughter's life. I do thank you from the bottom of my heart, and I want to ask your pardon for my seeming bluntness this morning."

"Oh, that was all right, sir. I happened to be handy to-day and helped to pull the little girl out of the water. That was all. And as for the motor boat, it was a matter of business and we couldn't come to terms. No one's fault."

Mr. Simpkins smiled at the businesslike youngster who talked so clearly to the point. "Well, I appreciate your quality more now than I did this morning, and I've come up not only to thank you, but to tell you that the motor boat you want is yours."

"Oh, I couldn't think of taking it! I did nothing to earn it," said Frank, much embarrassed by the kindly tone and offer.

"Now I insist," said the visitor. "The boat is doing me no good whatsoever, and you might as well have it. It belonged to a son of mine who is gone, and I haven't had the heart to let it be used or even to sell it. In view of the obligation you have placed me under, my boy, I can square things with you partially, at least, by giving you the boat. It has not been used much and I'm sure it is in good condition. If it is not in good condition, I'll put it that way, so you can begin your transportation, as you call it, at once."

"I'm awfully much obliged," said Frank, "but it's too much of a gift for what I did. Won't you let us buy it from you?" There was a sound of muffled protest from the boys at the other end of the veranda where they had withdrawn, although still within earshot of the conversation that was going on.

"The boy is right, Mr. Simpkins, it is too much of a gift," said Mr. Armstrong. "I think his argument is good."

"Well, then," said Mr. Simpkins, turning again to Frank, "make me an offer. I'm willing to sell to you and in some way discharge some of my debt. You are willing to buy, I think you said this morning."

"Yes, sir, but I'm afraid it would cost too much for us."

"I don't know," said the old gentleman; "the boat's not doing me any good. Let's see; I'd sell her for a hundred dollars and put her in running shape. How's that? And you can pay me half of that amount at the end of this summer and the other half a year later. Will you take her?"

There was a murmur of approval at the other end of the veranda, and Frank, as soon as he could find his voice, exclaimed: "You bet we'll take her! I mean—thank you, sir; we will take her on those conditions." Mr. Simpkins smiled slyly at Mr. Armstrong, who, being later appealed to by his son, readily gave his consent to the deal, adding, "And I'll back Frank and his chums in this venture."

"I can already see that I'm dealing with a young man who will make good his word," said Mr. Simpkins. "And now I must be going. I'll have a man look over the boat to-morrow morning, and if everything is all right with the engine you can take possession at once. I'll have my man show you how to run her, but I imagine it won't take you long to learn. Good night, all."

You can readily imagine the jubilee that took place when Mr. Simpkins was out of hearing. The four boys grabbed each other and danced a wild Highland fling. Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong looked on laughing as the boys thumped each other on the back and shouted.

"Boys, boys, you won't leave a board in the veranda, and the neighbors will think you've taken leave of your senses," admonished Mrs. Armstrong. "And, anyway, it's time for supper, and Mr. Gleason must be hungry after his long ride."

"Dear old mum, you would dance, too, wouldn't you, if you had just bought a ship for a song, same as we have? Here, salute the captain of the new Transportation Company!" His mother slipped her arm over her son's shoulder and kissed him gravely on the cheek: "Thus I salute Captain Armstrong."

"That's the best salute ever, mother. Better than twenty-one guns in the navy."

"And where do we come in, in these salutes," said the Codfish. "Aren't we important members of the company?"

"I could kiss you all, to-day," said the motherly woman; "I'm so happy for your sakes. But there goes the bell. We'll have something more substantial than salutes."

There was great planning at that supper of passenger carrying, swimming, racing and the like, things that all energetic boys on a summer vacation would enjoy.

"If David were only here our party would be complete," said Jimmy.

"And where is he?" inquired Gleason.

"We hope he'll be in Seawall next month. He is in Europe now," returned Frank; "and we will keep our purchase a secret from him at present. When he gets back we will suddenly burst on his vision in all our glory."

"Good old David," said Jimmy; "won't he be glad? We can take him along as member of the crew. He'd make a ripping coxswain."

"I don't know what a coxswain has to do, but he'd be all right for any job," said Lewis.

"And with all this crew you propose," said Mr. Armstrong, "where are you going to put your passengers?"

"Oh, don't worry about that, Dad; she's a big boat. Wait till you see her. Are you willing to advance us running expenses for gasoline and oil till we get our first money on fares?"

"Provided it isn't more than a hundred dollars a day," returned his father, laughing.

The next morning was spent down at the Simpkins wharf with the mechanic. There was little to do. The motor was one of the best types, but while it had been idle it had acquired some rust. The pistons stuck hard in the cylinders for a time, but they were soon freed and the engine turned over as smoothly as the day it left the shop. When the batteries were renewed, the carburetor adjusted and the gas and oil tanks filled, the mechanic gave the fly wheel a sharp turn. Instantly there was an explosion; another and another followed, and as the motor picked up speed under the careful manipulation of the mechanic, the explosions from the exhaust settled down into a steady purr.

"That's a peach of an engine," said Frank to the mechanic. "How much speed do you think the boat has?"

"Dunno," replied the mechanic; "mebby twenty miles, mebby more. Don't think there's many around here that'll get away from her very much. Now we're ready to see how she goes."

The ropes which fastened the motor boat to the pier were thrown off and slowly the craft was backed from her berth.

"Take the wheel," said the mechanic, indicating Frank, "and I'll look after the motor. We'll see what she can do."

Frank sprang to the wheel and after a little maneuvering headed her down the bay. "She steers like a bicycle," he cried. "Gee whiz, isn't it great?"

As the speed increased, the boat lifted her nose clear out of the water under the push from the powerful motor, and a white-capped wave rolled away from either side. They passed several sailing boats that seemed almost motionless by contrast. Frank ranged up alongside another motor boat bound in the same direction and soon left it in the distance. Then, after a long, sweeping turn, he headed back to the wharf, where Mr. Simpkins stood.

"She's all right, I see," said that gentleman, "and evidently hasn't lost her speed."

"I should say she hadn't," said Frank. "We went like an express train. Are you sure you still want to hold to your bargain, Mr. Simpkins?"

"Oh, yes; I'm glad my old boat has fallen into such appreciative hands. Maybe I'll take a ride with you, when you have begun your ferry service. She isn't as handsome as she was before the weather got at her sides, but a lick of paint here and there will repair all the damage."

"If our profits are big enough, we can lay her up this winter and give her a new dress," suggested Jimmy; "but there's no time now."

"If you are satisfied that you can run her," continued Mr. Simpkins, "and she is ready, there's no reason you can't take her now. What do you say?"

"Say? Why, we say yes, if you don't mind. We can be getting used to her before we begin to make business runs. How about it, mates?" said Frank, turning to his crew.

Of course the crew were of one mind. The mechanic was landed on the pier, and under the hands of her new crew, the Black Duck, for that was the name of the craft, shot once more into the sparkling waters of the bay. This time Jimmy was at the wheel and Frank manipulated the motor.

Halfway to the Seawall pier the boys met the Seagull, with a party aboard. Jimmy swung in close and the crew of the motor boat gave such a yell as startled the old salt at the tiller of the Seagull.

"Well, I'll be swizzled," they heard him say as they flashed by, and turning, with his arm on the tiller, he waved a friendly hand as they dashed on.

Before the day was over the boys had familiarized themselves thoroughly with their new possession, and the farther they went the more wonderful did they consider their luck in having such a craft.

The next morning the town of Seawall was startled in its morning walk by notices posted conspicuously as follows:

QUEEN'S TRANSPORTATION COMPANY.

A marvellous opportunity
to see the magnificent scenery
of Seawall Bay by motor boat.
Roomy accommodations.
Courteous attendants.
Every convenience.
For the small sum
of 25 cents.
Start made from Seawall Pier every hour.
First trip 10 a. m. to-day.
Per order

BOARD OF DIRECTORS.