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Updated: June 27, 2025
The drive unit was connected to the board by a suspended cable. "Boy, this'll be like playing with a speedboat in a bathtub!" Tom thought with a chuckle as he changed into swim trunks. He climbed into the tank and slid the drive unit to one end of its track. Then Tom metered out power slowly. With a gentle whoosh, the ion-drive unit whizzed along the unitrack to the other end of the tank.
The likeliest possibility is that he wanted to continue using it as a massage machine, because he made a little money with it. I never knew an espionage agent who didn't need money." Steve looked at Rick. "I'm a little surprised at one thing. Why didn't the Spindrift twins suspect foul play when Hartson Brant ran over something in the speedboat?" It was Rick's turn to be embarrassed.
Apparently every man among them was thinking of nothing save his own individual sufferings and terror unable to see with any degree of certainty, they must be staggering this way and that, colliding with each other and then one by one either falling into the water or else jumping aboard the speedboat so conveniently nearby.
Really he had taken it for granted that such would turn out to be the case, since occasions without number must arise when, for instance, the smugglers wished to take alien Chinamen from some schooner or speedboat by means of which the first part of their journey to the Promised Land had been carried through, when it would be necessary for the plane to drop alongside the boat from Cuba or other foreign ports and make the transfer.
The speedboat pulled alongside and strong hands caught hold of Stan. "Up you come, me hearty," a seaman shouted. Stan was so chilled he had to hang on to the arm of the sailor to keep his knees from buckling. "A bit chilly, eh?" a young officer asked. "Come along. We'll wrap you in a newfangled blanket your Uncle Sam just furnished us." "It wasn't exactly a Turkish bath," Stan admitted.
One of this lot's the flying man connected with that crate you can see he's still wearing his greasy dungarees and has his helmet on his head, like he expected to be hopping-off any minute now; a second chap is short and thick, not at all like the one we've come so far to buck up against, while the third, while tall, looks like a roughneck skipper of a speedboat."
The Spit dropped down lower and lower. It wove back and forth and finally it dived toward him. Stan waved some more. The Spit stayed with Stan until an orange-snouted speedboat appeared over the foam-rimmed horizon. The boat came roaring toward him, guided by the Spit. Stan grinned eagerly. Nice teamwork. Allison had radioed, the Spitfire pilot had picked up the message, and he had been rescued.
Such was the speed of the boat that it gained shelter behind the German, when the Mexican gunboat was compelled to cease fire. The speedboat slowed down, turned in a wide and heeling circle, and ranged up alongside the launch at the gangway.
"It's just ... well, it's ..." "I know," Rick assured her. "Take it easy, Sis." He looked up. The sound of a racing speedboat was echoing inside the cabin. Good. They'd be home in a few minutes and his mother could take over. He gave the girls a comradely grin. What a pair! The machine on the table attracted his eye. He walked over and studied it.
If we go barging around in the speedboat, we might throw a monkey wrench into the works." "But we can't just stand here and do nothing," Scotty said desperately. "We won't. Go get the plane warmed up and wait for me." Rick hurried into the house and ran up the stairs to Barby's room. Working fast, he went through the dresser, then through the shelves in her closet.
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