“And good luck to you!” cried Tom.  “Hope you bag all of the lions and tigers you wish,” and so they parted, not to meet again for many a day.

It was decided that the Rovers should not leave the ship until morning.  It can well be imagined that none of the boys slept soundly that night.  All wondered what was before them, and if they should succeed or fail in their hunt.

“Dis aint much ob a town,” remarked Aleck, as they landed, a little before noon, in a hot, gentle shower of rain.  “Nuffin like New York.”

“There is only one New York, as there is but one London,” answered Randolph Rover.  “Our architecture would never do for such a hot climate.”

Along the river front was a long line of squatty warehouses, backed up by narrow and far from clean streets, where the places of business were huddled together, and where a good share of the trading was done on the sidewalk.  The population was a very much mixed one, but of the Europeans the English and French predominated.  The natives were short, fat, and exceedingly greasy appearing.  Hardly a one of them could speak English.

“I don’t see any Americans,” remarked Dick.  “I suppose -”

“There is an American store!” burst out Sam, pointing across the way.  He had discovered a general trading store, the dilapidated sign of which read: 

          Simonhook,

       Dealer in Everything. 
     English Spoken by an American. 
       Horn of All Kinds Bought. 
     Yankee Boots Are the Best!

“He believes in advertising,” laughed Dick.  “I’d like to go in and see Simon Hook.  Perhaps he’ll remember something about father!” he added suddenly.

“That’s an idea!” returned Tom.  “Let us go in, Uncle Randolph.”

Mr. Rover was willing, and they entered the low and dingy-looking establishment, which was filled with boxes, barrels, and bags of goods.

They found the proprietor sitting in an easy chair, his feet on a desk, and a pipe in his mouth.

“Is this Mr. Hook?” asked Randolph Rover.

“That’s me,” was the answer; but Mr. Hook did not offer to rise, nor indeed to even shift his position.

“We saw your sign and as we are Americans we thought we would drop in,” went on Mr. Rover.

“That’s right; glad to see you,” came from the man in the chair; but still he did not offer to shift his position.

“Been here many years?” asked Dick.

“About twenty.”

“How is business?” put in Tom, bound to say something.

“Aint none, sonny.”

“You don’t look very busy.”

“It’s a fool’s place to come to, sonny.  When these goods are sold I’m going to quit.”  Mr. Simon Hook paused long enough to take an extra whiff from his pipe.  “What brought you here?”

“We are on a hunt for a missing man,” answered Randolph Rover.  “Did you ever meet him?  His name is Anderson Rover, and he is my brother.”