“I’m going to take the pains to tell Duke Fletcher what our plans are for the summer,” said Jerry, who was by long odds far from being one to seek trouble; but in this case he seemed to think it might liven things up if only Oswald and several of his cronies chose to make a similar cruise, and that fortune threw them together now and then. Frank rather doubted the wisdom of notifying the others of the intended voyage; but he neglected to ask Jerry not to mention it, and so the fact was forgotten until later. Once they arrived at the room, the letter, with its enclosures, was produced, and for a full hour the boys studied it. “I declare I can’t make head or tail of it,” Jerry finally admitted, with a puzzled expression on his face. “Me, too!” declared Bluff, ready to confess himself “stumped,” as he called it. “What do you suppose there is so valuable about this houseboat that would make anybody like Marcus Stackpole want to get it, if only he got on board?” “Say, perhaps Uncle Felix keeps some of his expensive curios aboard, and this Stackpole knows it, and means to get hold of ’em. I’m going to make it my job to find out if that’s so, and you fellows needn’t be surprised to see me poking around in any old dark corner, and tapping the walls of the cabin to find concealed treasures.” “That sounds just like you, Jerry; always thinking you’re going to strike it rich,” jeered Bluff. “Now, I’ve got a notion it’s the craft itself that’s so expensively built, and Stackpole, who must have wanted to buy it from Uncle Felix, and has been refused, is just bound to get hold of it.” Frank laughed at all these wild theories. He did not know himself what the solution of the mystery could be, but felt positive that it was along different lines from anything as yet suggested in the fertile brains of his companions. Besides, he wondered what that occasional smile he saw upon the face of Will meant. Evidently the other was keeping back something from his chums; and it must have a connection with the houseboat. As they expected to start home on the following day, it would not be long before they would arrive in St. Paul, ready to purchase their provisions for the beginning of the river trip, and start down stream. It was the last night at college for that term and all sorts of affairs were going on among the students, who would separate for two months and more on the morrow. When morning came there was a grand exodus, and the station of the college town presented a gay appearance, as scores of young fellows, with suitcases in their hands, boarded the train that pulled out. Those who were going later gave the college yell when the whistle of the engine announced that the parting minute had arrived. And amid a shrieking of hundreds of voices the train started that was to bear the four chums to their homes in Centerville.