the government?"

"The inferior quality of his product, I heard. There were ugly rumors
concerning graft at the time. Some of the newspapers even went so far as
to urge his prosecution."

"Then we are dealing with bad men?" commented Jack.

"Unquestionably so. But I think we had better break up this council of
war and get to bed. I want to get an early start in the morning."

But when morning came, it was found that the repairs to the _Skipjack_
would take longer than had been anticipated. While Captain Simms
remained at the boat yard to superintend the work, the lads returned to
the hotel and addressed some post cards. This done they sauntered out on
the porch. Almost the first person they encountered chanced to be
Jarrow. He started and turned a sickly yellow at the sight of them,
although he knew, from an inspection of the register the night before,
that they were there.

"Why--er--ahem, so it is you once more. Where did you spring from?"

"We came out of that door," murmured Jack, while Noddy snickered. "Where
did you come from?"

"I might say from the same place," was the rejoinder, with a look of
malice at Noddy.

"We thought you were in the west," said Billy. "Great place, the west.
They say the climate out there is healthier than the east--for some
folks."

"Boy, you are impudent," snarled Jarrow.

"Not at all. I was merely making a meteorological remark," smiled Billy.

"Wait till I get that word," implored Noddy, pulling out a notebook and
a stub of pencil.

"Splendid grounds they have here for taking strolls at night," Jack
could not help observing.

From yellow Jarrow's face turned ashen pale. Muttering something about a
telephone call, he hurried into the hotel.

"Goodness, that shot brought down a bird, with a vengeance," chuckled
Billy.

Jarrow's head was suddenly thrust out of an open window. He glared at
the boys balefully. His face was black as a thundercloud.

"You boys have been playing the sneak on me," he cried angrily. "If you
take my advice, you will not do so in the future."

He withdrew his head as quickly as a turtle draws its headpiece into its
shell.

"He's a corker," cried Noddy. "I'll bet if he had a chance, he'd like to
half kill us."

"Shouldn't wonder," laughed Jack, "but he isn't going to get that
chance. But hullo! What's all this coming up the driveway?"

The others looked in the same direction and beheld a curious spectacle.

CHAPTER VIII.

A MONK