A TEST OF SPEED
At the sight of the motor boys, Noddy started and seemed to turn back.
Bill Berry, however, was troubled by no such timidity. He pushed
forward while his companion hung back.
“What do you fellows want here?” asked Bill in no gentle tones. “Are
you spying on us? If you are you’d better look out, that’s all!”
“We’re not ‘spying’ on you as you call it,” said Jerry. “As for being
here, I guess we have as much right to come here after a plate of cream
as you have. And we didn’t see anything blue either,” he added.
“What do you mean by that?” demanded Bill Berry in excited tones.
“Just what I said,” replied Jerry in a calm voice. “The last time you
saw us you wanted to know whether we had seen anything blue. I thought
I’d tell you now that we did not see anything of such a shade, to save
you asking a question. But we may see it any day. When we do we’ll let
you know.”
The effect of this talk seemed greatly to excite Bill. He turned first
pale, then red. He tried to speak but the words failed him.
“Look here!” he finally exclaimed. “I’d like to know what you mean. If
the Blue--”
“Keep still!” exclaimed Noddy. “Come on Bill. Don’t have anything to do
with the sneaks.”
“Look here!” burst out Ned. “You keep your names to yourself, Noddy
Nixon, and speak civilly of us or you’ll find yourself in deeper water
than the day that you fell into the river!”
Noddy’s face became red at the recollection of his humiliation at the
hands of the motor boys.
“I’ll pay you for that yet!” he exclaimed. “I’m not likely to forget
it. You’d better look out. Me and Bill--”
“Keep quiet, you lunk-head!” exclaimed Bill in a hoarse whisper. “Who’s
talking too much now? Do you want them to--” and then, fearing that he
might say too much Bill fairly dragged Noddy out of the door with him.
For a few moments the boys stood in silence. They could hear Noddy and
Bill walking down the path that led to the river, their feet crunching
the gravel.
“I wonder how they came here,” said Bob.
“Let’s watch ’em and see how they leave,” said Jerry. “We’ll get a line
on ’em then.”
Going to the door of the pavilion they saw Noddy and Bill get in a
motor boat that was tied at the edge of the float. It was a little
craft, hardly more than a rowboat with a small “kicker” gas engine in
it. Noddy got in the bow to steer, and Bill cranked up. After a number
of loud wheezes and chugs the boat started down the river.
“Little one cylindered affair,” said Bob in contemptuous tones.
“Never mind, they may make trouble enough for us with it, even if it
has only one cylinder,” put in Jerry. “It don’t move very fast, to be
sure,” as he watched the craft glide slowly down the stream, “but you
can bet Noddy has some object in having such a poor boat when he could
afford a better one. He’s up to some game, I haven’t the least doubt. I
wish I could get on to it.”
“Do you think he has any plan for making trouble for us?” asked Ned.
“Judging from what we overheard a little while ago, I would say he
has,” spoke Jerry.
“Well, I think Jerry’s right,” agreed Ned. “It seems that Bill has
something to hide. I wonder what he’s always talking about something
blue for?”
“Did you notice he always gets as far as the word ‘blue’?” asked Jerry.
“Then he stops as if he was going to mention something more, but
catches himself just in time.”
“I wonder if it’s blue diamonds, blue moon, or blue feelings,” spoke
Bob.
“Maybe it’s a blue bird,” put in Ned with a laugh. Though he spoke
off-hand the time was coming when his words were destined to be
remembered with peculiar significance.
As the _Dartaway_ was chugging along towards home on second speed the
boys heard, from behind, the exhaust of another boat, that, to judge by
the explosions, was coming along at a rapid clip.
“Hello!” exclaimed Jerry who was steering. “I didn’t know there were
any other motor boats around here but ours and Noddy’s.”
“That’s a dandy, all right,” spoke Ned, as he looked the approaching
craft over from bow to stern. “She is going some. I wonder if we could
beat her. Try, Jerry.”
Jerry was not unwilling to have a little test of speed with the
stranger craft. It came on steadily, the explosions making almost a
continuous roar. In the boat which was soon opposite the _Dartaway_,
were two men. The boat was new, and, in the gathering dusk the boys
could read the name on the bow, _Terror_.
“Rather piratical,” said Ned in a low voice.
The men in the _Terror_ glanced curiously at the _Dartaway_ as the two
craft came opposite. One of them spoke to the other in a low voice.
Then the one at the wheel adjusted the engine and the _Terror_ leaped
ahead. The two boats were now on even terms.
The two men could be seen smiling slightly as they glanced across at
the craft the boys were in. Jerry settled himself at the wheel, and
telling Ned to see to the engine, and keep it well oiled, he prepared
for the race, which had been tacitly agreed to.
For a few minutes the two boats were running so nearly alike that,
looking from one to the other, both seemed to be standing still. Then
slowly, very slowly, the _Terror_ began to creep away. Jerry opened the
throttle a trifle, and the _Dartaway_ edged up on her rival.
“They needn’t think they can leave us behind in that way,” spoke Ned.
“We haven’t begun to go yet.”
Nor, did it appear, had the _Terror_, either. From time to time the
steersman glanced at the _Dartaway_, and, as he saw her keeping even
with him he speeded up his motor a trifle. But Jerry was not to be
outdone, and he did not let the other boat gain an advantage.
“Do you think we can beat him?” asked Andy in a low tone, too impressed
by the race to talk at his usual rate.
“It’s a question of engines now,” said Jerry. “Ours is at the limit.”
So, it appeared, was the _Terror’s_. For some time the two men had been
content with merely keeping a straight course, and oiling their motor.
But now, aided either by having gotten into a place where the current
was a little swifter, or her motor making a few more explosions a
minute, the _Dartaway_ began to forge ahead. At first it was only by
the closest observation that it could be seen. But, in a little while,
the nose of the boys’ boat was three inches past the _Terror’s_. Then
this increased to ten, to twenty, until, about a mile above Cresville,
the _Dartaway_ was a length ahead of her rival.
“We’re beating ’em!” cried Ned in his exultation.
“I think so. We certainly are shooting along,” agreed Jerry.
An instant later the motor of the _Dartaway_, with a wheezing cough,
began to slow up. Then with a final explosion, as if in protest, it
stopped altogether. The craft at once lost headway, and the _Terror_
sprang forward and passed her, winning the impromptu speed contest.
“Well, if this isn’t the limit!” exclaimed Jerry. “I wonder what’s the
trouble now.”
Ned was frantically trying to get the motor to start again.
“Seems as if there was no gasolene,” he said.
Jerry quickly opened the forward tank, and thrust a measuring stick
down.
“That’s what’s the trouble!” he exclaimed. “Not a drop in the tank. We
forgot all about filling it.”
The _Terror_, after continuing on for about an eighth of a mile had
turned and was coming swiftly toward the _Dartaway_. When she was
alongside, the steersman quickly reversed his motor and the craft,
trembling like a frightened thoroughbred, came to a stop.
“In trouble?” asked the man at the wheel pleasantly. “You have a mighty
fine boat there. I hope she hasn’t broken down. You had us beaten.”
“The gasolene has given out,” said Jerry.
“Shall we give you a tow to Cresville?” the steersman went on. “That’s
as far as we’re going.”
“We’d be much obliged if you would,” spoke Jerry. “Does your boat
belong there?”
“I think it will after to-night, boys,” said the man at the motor. “How
are you? Came near beating us,” and he took off the cap that had shaded
his face.
“Why it’s Chief Dalton!” exclaimed Ned, as he and the others recognized
the head of the Cresville police force. “What in the world are you
doing here, chief?”