A QUEER KIND OF RAT
“Oh, this is terrible!” cried Alice. “I’m going to jump out!”
“Put us ashore! We’ll sink!” screamed Mollie.
“Look here!” exclaimed Jerry sternly. “You girls are old enough to know
better. There’s no danger, even if the boat has broken down, and we
are stuck fast. If worst comes to worst we can row you ashore. Now, if
you’ll keep quiet, I’ll see what’s the matter.”
As Ned had guessed, they were on a sand bar. The boat had been moving
quite swiftly before the accident happened, and, what with the momentum
and the drift of the current, had run well up on the obstruction.
“Well,” remarked Jerry when matters had quieted down somewhat, “I guess
the first thing to do is to look and see what the trouble is with the
motor.”
With the assistance of Ned and Bob, Jerry tested the engine to see if
there was good compression, that is if there was the proper mixture of
air with the vapor from the gasolene to produce the explosive gas which
made the piston move. He found that there was no trouble from this
source.
“How’s the spark?” asked Ned.
“I haven’t tried that yet,” said Jerry. “I will now.”
He detached one of the wires connected with the batteries and magneto
or small dynamo from the binding post of one of the cylinder heads and
adjusting the contact breaker, touched the end to the set screw. There
was no answering spurt of greenish flame.
“That’s the trouble,” said Ned. “No spark. Wire must be broken.”
“Let’s see if it’s the faults of the batteries or the magneto,” spoke
Bob, who was inclined to go slow.
By means of a small handle on the armature of the magneto it was
whirled rapidly around. As soon as this was done there came a vicious
spark from the end of the wire.
“Trouble is in the batteries,” said Ned.
The spark which exploded the gases in the cylinders of the _Dartaway_
was produced in two ways. When the engine was first started it came
from a series of dry cells and a spark coil. Once the fly wheel was
revolving well, a switch could be turned to make the current come from
the magneto, which was operated by it. But it was necessary that the
fly wheel revolve swiftly before any current sufficient to operate the
motor would be produced by the magneto.
Now the only way the fly wheel could be operated swiftly enough was to
run the engine rapidly and this could not be done except by a spark
from the batteries. So it will be seen that the motor boys were in
trouble of a peculiar kind right at the start.
True, if one of them could have turned the fly wheel swiftly enough by
hand to have made the magneto produce a spark, to get the explosions
started the problem would have been solved, but it is doubtful if even
a strong man could have performed that feat.
They tried it by turns, when Jerry had exhausted everything else he
thought of, but for all their back-breaking efforts there was no
result. The _Dartaway_ belied its name.
The boys were hot and tired. The girls were nervous. It had been
Jerry’s plan to get the engine started, reverse the screw, and see if
he could not pull the boat from the bar. But she stuck fast.
“Shall we row the girls ashore?” asked Sammy. “It’s getting late and
the folks may be worried.”
“Well, we’re sorry to lose your company,” said Jerry, “but we seem to
be up against it. Maybe it would be the best thing to do. We’ll make up
for this some day and give you all a better ride.”
The girls got up, preparing to leave.
“Well, here’s a fine pickle!” exclaimed Sammy.
“What’s happened?” cried Alice.
“Our rowboat’s gone!”
“Our boat?” asked Andy, shortening his remarks for another time.
“That’s what I said,” came from Sammy. “The rope got untied. She’s
floated off. I guess you’ll have to entertain us a little longer,
Jerry.”
“Make yourselves comfortable,” said the engineer of the _Dartaway_.
“I’m going to find out what’s the trouble before I go home. We’ll get
you back some time.”
“I hope it’s soon,” murmured Alice. “It will be dark in a little while.”
Spurred on by the plight of their guests the motor boys redoubled their
efforts to discover the cause of the trouble and remedy it. That
it was in the wires leading from the batteries to the cylinders was
certain, but the conductors, when examined as far as possible, showed
no sign of break.
“I’ll just have to run new wires, temporary ones of course,” said Jerry
after a while. “It will take a little time, but it’s bound to do the
trick.”
He overhauled the stores and extra parts in one of the lockers. “I hope
we have a coil of wire,” he muttered. “I’m certain I saw some.”
But his search did not reveal any. The situation was getting serious.
Already the sun was behind the trees, and the girls plainly showed
their nervousness.
“Let Sammy and me get out, take the rope and try to pull the boat off
the bar,” suggested Andy.
“It’s too risky,” said Ned. “This bottom is of the quick-sand variety,
and you’d sink down. I guess we’re stuck here until the motor goes.”
Bob was rummaging about under one of the seats. He hauled out a
package, exclaiming as he did so:
“I’ve got it!”
“What, the wire?” asked Jerry excitedly.
“No, that lunch I brought along! I’m glad it’s here. I’m hungry and I
guess the rest of you can nibble at a chicken sandwich or two.”
“Can we?--well I guess yes!” cried Andy, and the others chimed in with
him. Even Jerry, though much worried over the mishap, stopped tinkering
with the engine long enough to munch some of the food.
“Call me all the names you want to,” said Chunky with a grin, “but
you’ll have to admit I’m there with the goods.”
“Good for you, Chunky!” exclaimed Ned.
“Oh!” cried Alice suddenly. “Something bit me on the foot! I believe
it’s a rat! Oh dear! Save me!”
She jumped up, much excited, Mollie following her example.
“Sit still!” cried Jerry. “There are no rats aboard!”
“But something bit me!” insisted the girl. “It had sharp teeth and I
felt them in my ankle. I have low shoes on!”
She moved away from where she had been sitting. Mollie retreated toward
the stern. Jerry got a lantern and lighted it, for it was now dusk, and
dark down in the cockpit where the girls had been resting. He made a
careful examination.
“I’ve got it!” he cried.
“What, the rat?” asked Alice.
“No; I’ve found the broken wire that caused all our trouble,” came from
Jerry. “It was the end of it sticking up through a crack and touching
you on the ankle that you felt. Now we’ll be off!”
It was indeed the break in the copper conductor that he had discovered.
The ends of the wire came up through a space in the flooring of the
boat. They ran from a compartment in the forecastle back to the motor.
In less than a minute Jerry had twisted the broken ends together.
Then he fastened the conductor back in the spark plug. Turning on the
gasolene he gave the fly wheel a twist.
There came a welcome chug-chug and then a throb of the motor. Jerry
threw in the reverse gear. The water at the stern was churned into foam
as the screw revolved. Slowly the _Dartaway_ backed off the sand bar
and into a deeper channel. Then Jerry threw in the forward speed and
the craft shot ahead.
“Hurrah!” cried the boys. “We’re off!”
“It’s lucky you discovered that rat,” said Jerry to Alice, “or we might
have stayed there all night.”
Bob lighted the search lamp, as it had grown quite dark, and the shaft
of glaring whiteness shone on the black river. Jerry speeded up the
boat, and it went down the stream toward Cresville at a rapid pace.