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Updated: May 13, 2025
"Get up and take the wheel, Evarts," Tom. directed. "Get at work on your spark, Conlon, and I'll throw the drive-wheel over for you. Some of you men cast, off!" In a very short time the "Morton" was going "put-put-put" away from the dock. Tom, after seeing that everything was moving satisfactorily, turned around to look at the four men huddled astern. "Don't any of you go to sleep," he urged.
Grandpa Davis had continued to call, and now the answer was very near. "Gimme the first shot, Billy," whispered Grandpa Dun. "I let you do the callin'; and, besides, you know you never could hit nothin' that wasn't as big as the side of a meetin'-house." Before Grandpa Davis had time to reply, there came the "put-put-put" which signals possible danger.
"Let her go," Tom returned, "as soon as Nicolas boards." The Mexican was quickly aboard, after having made the rowboat's painter fast. "Headway!" announced Renshaw, throwing over the drive-wheel of the engine. "Put-put-put!" sputtered the motor. Then the "Morton" began really to move. With the first real throb of the engine the electric running lights gleamed out. Aft Conlon began to stir.
Harry decided instantly to stand his ground and to make the most valiant fight possible on so slippery a footing as that presented by the top of the retaining wall. "Ha, ha! Ho, ho!" It was as though the black unknown sought to terrify his intended victim with his repetitions of that harsh, discordant laugh. Harry braced himself and waited. Then, off shoreward, came the sound of "put-put-put."
He was up again, however, before Hazelton could repress the pain in his foot and leap at the wretch. "Ha, ha! Ho, ho!" came the tantalizing challenge. "Put-put-put!" sounded over the water, coming nearer all the time. "Re -e -e -e a d e! T o m R e a d e! Help -quick!" yelled Harry, lustily. This, doubtless, was the first call that Tom, at the bow of the motor boat, thought he heard.
There was a bend in the river below this bottom, and another above; so they could not see far in either direction unless they climbed to the high ground. For a minute Hiram could not tell in which direction the sound was coming; but he knew the steady put-put-put must be the exhaust of a motor-boat. It soon poked its nose around the lower turn.
I watched the planes for months without seeing one hit and had about concluded that, to make an Irish bull, the only safe place on earth was up in the air, when, one morning, hearing the now familiar "put-put-put" of machine guns up above, we looked up to see one of our large observing biplanes engaged with a very small but fast enemy plane.
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