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Updated: June 17, 2025
When the motor-boat stopped at the dock the artificial arm had been placed in the coat sleeve and George was assisted to the dock. There George discovered one of the men who had helped in repairing the Black Growler. "Hello!" called the mechanic, discovering the boys and at once approaching. "Hello, to you!" called back George. "It's been a long time since I have seen you.
"I think you told Miss Sugg that the harbor police had picked up the motor-boat in that yacht case." "So I heard," said Winifred. She was in charge of a wire-stitching machine, and her deft fingers were busy. "Who told you?" The manager's tone grew a trifle less cordial. He was not accustomed to being held at arm's length by any young woman in the establishment whom he condescended to notice.
"We'll see that you send off your yarn all right. There's a telegraph office in the Academy now. I'll fix it for you." The run to the school dock was soon made, and the arrival of Dick's motor-boat, with the rescued ones from the airship, which had been seen flying over the parade grounds a little while before, made some commotion.
However, he offered no objections and the boys arranged their vigils as on the preceding nights. No evil had befallen the racing motor-boat, however when morning came. The race now was only two days distant. Only one night therefore intervened and the irksome task of guarding the boat-house would only have to be performed once more.
A few days subsequent to Andrew Daney's secret scuttling of the motor-boat Brutus, Nan Brent was amazed to receive a visit from him. "Good-morning, Nan," he saluted her. "I have bad news for you." "What, pray?" she managed to articulate. She wondered if Donald had been injured up in the woods. "Your motor-boat's gone." This was, indeed, bad news. Trouble showed in Nan's face.
The Parisian Rugby team was his pampered protege, he was an active member of the Tennis Club, maintained not only a flock of automobiles but a famous racing stable, rode to hounds, was a good field gun, patronized aviation and motor-boat racing, risked as many maximums during the Monte Carlo season as the Grand Duke Michael himself, and was always ready to whet rapiers or burn a little harmless powder of an early morning in the Parc aux Princes.
Chunda Lal clenched his hands convulsively and turned his eyes in the same direction. "It is of him," he replied in a voice of suppressed vehemence, "it is of him I would speak." He bent close to Miska's ear. "In the creek, below the house, is lying the motor-boat. I go to-day to bring it down for him. He goes to-night to the other house up the river. To-morrow I am gone. Only you remaining."
"No, is he, though?" exclaimed Rob, keenly interested. "Then the crew and skipper of the Flying Fish will have to look alive. I know that Sam's father helped him out with that boat and put a lot of new wrinkles in it. I didn't think, though, he'd have it ready in time for the races." The boys referred to the coming motor-boat races which were to take place shortly on the inlet at Hampton.
Glancing around as if to assure himself that no one was within hearing, he hitched the barrel on which he was seated nearer his visitor. "There's a sight of plague with motor-boats among these shoals," he went on eagerly. "What with the eel-grass that grows along the inlets an' the kelp that's washed in by the tide after a storm, the propeller of a motor-boat is snarled up a good bit of the time.
The Erie Canal is about seven feet deep and the new one is about twelve feet deep. It's going to be deep enough to take in boats of three thousand tons." As soon as their breakfast had been eaten, and a fresh supply of gasoline had been obtained, once more in high spirits the boys started in their swift motor-boat.
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