They took down maps and
hunted up books descriptive of Mexico, and so busied themselves with the
details of the proposed trip that it was after eleven when their minds
came back to the common things of life.
"Well," Harry Stevens said, then, "I've got to go home, but I'll be here
to-morrow night to talk it over. As Glen says, the Rio Grande del Norte
is a funny kind of a stream, like all the waterways in that section of the
country, bottom full of sand, and all that, but I presume we can float a
houseboat on it."
"Of course we can," Glen put in. "It doesn't take much water to run a
houseboat. If we get stuck, you can wire your father to send a motor car
down after us."
"He would do it, all right," replied Harry. "We'll take an auto trip
across the continent, some day. Good night, fellows."
"I must go right now," George Fremont said. "Mr. Cameron is at the
office, working over the Tolford estate papers, and he asked me to call
at the rooms and go home with him. He's always nervous when working
over that case. The heirs are troublesome, and threatening, I guess."
Frank Shaw walked with George to the nearest corner, where the latter
decided to wait for a taxicab. The night had cleared, but the wind
off the Bay was still strong and cold.
"I've a notion to ride down to the office with you," Frank said, as
they waited. "You could leave me at home on the way up."
"I wish you would," Fremont said. "Skyscrapers are uncanny after
dark, and the elevator will not be running.
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