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For years, my father says, it was used regularly by all sorts of boats that wanted to cross over from one river to the other. But changes came, and by degrees the old canal has been about forgotten. Still, it's there; and I went through it in my canoe just yesterday, to sound, and see if it could be used by the motorboats now." "And could it?" asked Bobolink, eagerly.

They went through the submarine from stem to stern, but nowhere were they able to find another living soul. "Looks like those were the only ones aboard," remarked Jack. "It does," agreed Frank. "Maybe the men in the motorboats were part of their crews and they have been lying about here all these days waiting for them to return." "Well, I can't guess the answer," said Jack.

"Where will we go?" called out one scout, after the cheering had died down, and they found time to consider ways and means of employing the motorboats that had been so generously given into their keeping. "Down the Bushkill to the sea!" suggested one.

A post-office store-house at a rippling ford gave way to smoking cities, rumbling bridges, paved streets, and hurrying throngs. The lone fisherman in an 18-foot dugout had changed insensibly to darting motorboats and to huge, red-wheeled, white-castled monsters, whose passage in the midst of vast waters was attended by the sighs of toiling engines and the tossing of troubled seas.

He saw skiffs, motorboats, shanty-boats pulling hastily down the slough into the Mississippi. It was the Exodus of Sin. Mendova's rectitude had asserted its strength and power, and now the exits of the city were flickering with the shadows of departing hordes of the night and of the dark, all of whom had two fears: one of daylight, the other of sudden death.

Perhaps a hundred yards away in the darkness Frank's keen eyes now made out the forms of many little craft approaching them silently and swiftly. He immediately called Lord Hastings' attention. "The motorboats," replied the latter quietly. "Things are working out just right."

"I think it's just great," answered his chum. "And by the way, if we should conclude to come back to the island again in the night, I know the finest kind of a place where we could hide the motorboats." "Where is that?" asked the scout master, quickly. "You haven't been around on the side of the island where the shore curves into a little bay, like.

Before the first of the foe could submerge a shell from one of the little motorboats struck her squarely upon the bridge, killing the captain and other officers, and shattering the conning tower. The men below no longer had a means of guiding the vessel, which drifted toward her nearest neighbor and rammed her amidships.

They were very much like the aqua-planes commonly towed behind motorboats, but much cruder, and designed to go under rather than remain on the surface. Two long ropes were arranged so that a sled could be towed on either side of the Water Witch. Once this was done, the boys rechecked their equipment, attached the regulators to the tanks, and carried them to the beach.

He would not have this, his first important commission, turn out poorly, for a good deal. Perhaps his whole future usefulness as a scout who could be depended on in emergencies rested on the way he accounted for the safety of the motorboats this night.