Walter examined the motor truck carefully. It was almost new, but it was evident that it had received rough treatment at the hands of inexperienced drivers, but its main parts were still good and unworn. "Well, what have you decided to do?" asked Mr. Murphy, as they all clambered aboard the truck. "We would like until to-morrow morning to talk it over," Charley said cautiously. "Sorry, but the way it stands, I've got to close up at once," said Mr. Murphy briefly. "I've just got to get back home to my wife. I've got another man on my string, and if you fellows don't want the business I'll just run down to his place and see him to-night. I'm pretty sure he'll take it." "All right, then; we'll take it," said Charley promptly. "Machine, truck, contract, and all equipment for $3,000." "Agreed," said Mr. Murphy, equally prompt. "I'll give you a regular bill of sale, covering everything, as soon as I get to Jupiter. We'll get there in time to find a notary, I guess." There was no further chance for conversation, for, as soon as it was started up, the motor truck kept all hands busy trying to retain their seats. The dirt road was full of hollows, bumps and ruts that sent the truck's occupants bouncing and jarring from side to side, so that they were not at all sorry when Jupiter was at last reached. Once arrived, the notary was hunted up, and the transfer papers made out. "I'll stay with you two weeks and show you how to run the thing," said Mr. Murphy. "I ought to go at once, but I promised you I would stay, and I will. I suppose you will want to pack up and not go back until morning. So, I guess I'll take this check for $3,000 down to Palm Beach, and get it cashed, and come back on the early morning train. There's a local train due for Palm Beach in about five minutes, so I'll say so long until morning." 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."