A RUNAWAY MOTOR-BOAT
"What do you make of that?"
"The motor-boat must have run away from Nat!"
"Either that or Nat has fallen overboard!"
"Maybe Nat has been drowned!"
These and other remarks were made, as the boys on the highway gazed down
at the craft that was speeding along in such an erratic fashion over the
surface of the river. A closer look confirmed their first opinion, that
nobody was on board.
"I'm going to try to stop her!" shouted Dave, and ran back along the
highway, and disappeared into the bushes. Roger followed him closely,
and some of the others trailed behind.
"I am going up the river--to see if I can find Nat!" shouted Phil, and
away he sped, and Sam and Ben went along.
It was no easy matter for Dave to work his way down the bank of the
stream. The bushes were thick and the footing uncertain, and once his
jacket caught on a root and he had to pause to free himself. But at
last he came out on a narrow strip of rocks and sand, at a point where
the Leming River made a broad turn.
The water at this point was quite shallow, and here he thought the
progress of the motor-boat would be stayed. His surmise was correct, the
craft bringing up between several smooth rocks. The engine continued to
work, pounding the boat back and forth, and threatening to sink her.
Fortunately, Dave had on a pair of gaiters he had borrowed, and they
were so big that he slipped them off with ease. His socks followed, and
then he rolled up his trousers to his knees, and waded into the stream.
"Be careful, or you'll slip and hurt yourself on the rocks!" sang out
the senator's son.
"I'm watching out!" returned Dave.
He was leaping from one smooth stone to another, keeping in the shallow
spots as much as possible. Thus he managed to get within a few yards of
the motor-boat.
As he came closer he saw that the craft was pounding on the rocks worse
than before. The pounding had in some way moved the gasoline control
forward and also advanced the spark, and the engine was practically
running "wild."
"I hope she isn't getting ready to blow up!" thought the youth, and he
gazed anxiously ahead. Smoke was issuing from the motor-boat, coming
from some over-heated oil.
He leaped to the next high rock, and then plunged boldly forward, soon
gaining the bow of the craft. At the stern the propeller was churning
the water into a white foam. The craft was trembling violently, and the
hum of the machinery gave full evidence of the power it was exerting.
Fortunately, Dave's knowledge of gasoline engines now stood him in good
stead, and without the loss of a second he turned off the supply of
gasoline and the electric spark, and thus allowed the engine to "die."
As the propeller slowed up and stopped, the water behind the craft
calmed down, and then the pounding on the rocks was reduced to a gentle
rub that did little but scratch the paint.
"Is she all right, Dave?" called out Roger, who stood on the rocks of
the bank watching proceedings with great interest.
"I think so, although it hasn't done the engine any good to run wild.
She's pretty well heated up, and the cylinders may be carbonized, or
something like that."
"What are you going to do--try to run her in here?"
"No, I'll not take the risk. I only wanted to stop the engine and get
rid of the risk of the boat blowing up."
"You ran a big risk doing it. She looked to me as if she might go up any
instant."
"She can't get out of here--the current holds her," went on Dave. "She
will be perfectly safe until Nat comes for her. I'd like to know where
he is."
"Phil and some of the others went off to see."
To save the boat as much as possible, Dave took two of the wooden
gratings of the flooring and tied them to ropes hanging over the sides.
In this position they acted as fenders, so that the rocks rubbed against
the gratings instead of the boat proper.
"I am afraid he'll have quite a job of it, getting her out into the
stream," said Dave, on coming ashore, and when he was putting on his
socks and the gaiters. "She'll have to back out against the current and
do a lot of turning."
"Maybe he'll have to get somebody to tow him out,--with a very long
line," returned Roger.
"If only Nat didn't fall overboard," said Dave.
In the meantime, Phil and some of the others had run up the stream a
distance. As they turned a point where there were several small islands
the shipowner's son set up a shout.
"There is Nat now!"
"Whatever is he doing?" queried Ben.
"Swimming ashore, or trying to wade," answered Sam.
The boys on the shore came down to the water's edge and watched Nat
Poole with interest. He was floundering around in water up to his waist.
Sometimes he would come up on a rock, and then slip and pitch headlong.
But he kept on, until he was but a few yards away.
"Hi, Nat! what's the matter?" called out Phil. "Did you fall overboard?"
"Hel--help me!" chattered the unfortunate one, and now the others
realized that he was suffering greatly from the cold. "Don--don't let
m--me--g-g-g--go down!"
"We'll help you!" answered Phil, promptly, and ran out on some dry rocks
to a point close to poor Nat. "Come, give me your hand and I'll pull you
up."
"So will I," added Ben, who had come behind the shipowner's son.
The suffering youth was only too glad to have somebody come to his aid,
and he put up both hands, and those on the rocks hauled him up and then
aided him to get to a safe spot on shore. He was shivering from head to
feet, and his teeth chattered so that he could hardly speak.
"I wa--want t-t-to get where it is wa-wa-warm!" chattered Nat. "That
wa--water is li--like i-i-i-ice!"
"Take off your wet coat," said Phil, kindly. "Here, you can have mine.
I've got a sweater on." And he passed over the garment.
Nat was glad enough to don something dry, and the exchange was quickly
made.
"If you'll take my advice, you'll make a run of it to the nearest
farmhouse and warm up," said Ben. "If you don't you may take your death
of cold."
"I--I wi--will," answered Nat.
"I'll go with you. There is a farmhouse just down the road a bit."
"We'll go back to where we left Dave and the others," said Phil. "They
were after your boat," he explained.
"Did th--they st--stop h-h-her?"
"I don't know. We saw her, in the river, running wild. How did it
happen?"
"I was fi--fixing the rudder li--line at the st--st--stern when all of a
su--sudden we hit a r--r--rock or something and I we--went overboard,"
answered Nat. "Before I co-could g-g-get back the b-b-boat got away
from m-m-me."
"Dave and some others went after the boat. We saw it running by itself,
among the rocks."
Nat was too cold to pay attention just then to what had become of his
property. He ran as fast as he could to the farmhouse, and there was
taken in and allowed to dry himself in front of the fire, and was given
a cup of hot tea. In the meantime Phil rejoined Dave and Roger, and
told how the money-lender's son had been found.
It was after the supper-hour when all of the boys got back to Oak Hall,
and Job Haskers was on the point of reading them a lecture and forcing
them to do without supper when Doctor Clay appeared. To the master of
the school the lads related their story, and he at once excused them for
their tardiness, and told them to go directly to the dining-room, while
he ordered Lemond to get out the school coach and go after Nat.
"Poole can be glad he was not drowned," said the doctor. "It was nice of
you to stop the engine of his boat. But after this I want all of you to
be more careful. I do not want to lose any of my boys!" And the look he
gave them went to the heart of every lad present.
"What a difference between him and old Haskers!" murmured Phil.
"I'd give as much as a dollar to have Haskers leave," added Sam.
"I reckon every fellow in the school would chip in a dollar for that,"
was Plum's comment.
When Nat got in he was sent at once to his room, to change all of his
clothes, and was then given a hot supper, which made him feel quite like
himself. Later on he questioned Dave about the motor-boat, and said he
would try to get the craft from among the rocks the next day, hiring a
professional boatman to assist him. He did not thank Dave for his aid,
nor did he thank Phil and the others.
"I guess it isn't in him to thank anybody," was Ben's comment. "Nat is
one of the kind who thinks only of himself."
"He will have a hard time of it, getting his boat," said Dave, and so it
proved. It took half a day to get the craft from among the rocks, and
then it was found that she leaked so badly she had to be sent to a
boat-builder for repairs.
That Saturday was the day scheduled for the football game with
Lemington. As Nat could not take the eleven to that town in his
motor-boat, as promised, the school carryall was pressed into service.
This made some of the other students, who had arranged to go in the
carryall, find other means of conveyance, and there was considerable
grumbling.
"Poole said he would take 'em in the motor-boat," growled one student.
"He ought to have seen to it that his boat was repaired on time."
The Old Guard football eleven all had bicycles or motor-cycles, and they
went to the Lemington Athletic Grounds in a body on their wheels. All
carried the school colors, and many also had horns and rattles.
"We'll show 'em that we can root for Oak Hall even if we are not on the
eleven!" declared Dave.
Job Haskers took but little interest in athletics, declaring he thought
too much time was wasted over field sports, but Andrew Dale was keenly
alive to what was going on. He knew all about the trouble in the
football organization, and he watched the departure of Dave and his
chums with interest.
"Aren't you going, Mr. Dale?" asked Dave.
"Oh, yes, I am going in the carriage with Doctor Clay. Do you think we
shall win, Porter?"
"We'll win if rooting can do it!" cried Dave.
"Then you intend to 'root,' as you call it?"
"Yes, sir--we are going to root for all we are worth."
"I am glad to know it," answered Andrew Dale; and then he turned away to
attend to some school duties. Later on, when he and the doctor were on
the way to the game, he mentioned the trouble in the football club, and
told how Dave and his chums had been left out in the cold, and how Dave
and the others were now going to cheer for and encourage the school
eleven.
"Fine! Grand!" murmured the master of the school, his eye lighting up
with pleasure. "That is the proper school spirit! It does Porter, Morr,
and the others great credit."
"Exactly what I think, Doctor," answered the first assistant. "Many
players would have remained away altogether, or gone to the game to
throw cold water on the efforts of those on the gridiron. It shows a
manliness that cannot be excelled."
"Yes! yes!" murmured Doctor Clay. "A fine lot of boys, truly! A fine
lot! It seems a pity they were forced off the team."
"Perhaps they'll be back--before the football season is over," answered
Andrew Dale, gravely.
"What do you mean, Dale?"
"Perhaps the football eleven will need them and be glad to get them
back."