CHAPTER III

AN ACCIDENT

Jerry came back with a large can and a funnel. With the help of the boys he filled the tank in the forward part of the boat.

“Now we’re ready to go,” he said.

“Hold on,” came from Ned, who had been reading a card of instructions that was attached to the engine. “This says it is best to let the boat rest in the water a few hours after launching to swell the seams before starting the engine, as they might strain open.”

“Oh I’m so glad you discovered that,” Bob said. “We might have gone out and been sunk! Let’s go to dinner first.”

“I guess that’s what you were thinking of all the while instead of any danger,” retorted Ned. “But I guess it’s just as well to let the boat rest a bit. Besides, we’ll have to oil the engine good before starting it.”

“Will we leave the boat here alone and all go to dinner?” asked Ned. “I think one of us ought to stay on guard. Bob can stay until you and I come back, Jerry,” and he winked the eye concealed from Chunky.

“Oh I say, fellows!” cried Bob. “I don’t believe any one will touch the boat.”

His friends burst out laughing at the woe-begone expression on his face, and the manner in which Bob placed his hands over the region of his stomach.

“I guess one of the carpenters will watch the _Dartaway_ until we come back,” suggested Jerry, and the man who had the contract for the boat house agreed. He did not go home to dinner.

Bob seemed to hesitate on emerging from the dining room after the meal. Ned noticed it and asked:

“Didn’t you have enough of that chicken, Chunky?”

“Oh yes,” replied Bob with a sigh.

“Then what’s the matter?”

“I was thinking we might get stuck out in the river aboard the boat,” said the fleshy youth.

“Why you’re not afraid, are you? You can swim.”

“No, I’m not exactly afraid of that.”

“Then what?”

“Why I was thinking if we got stuck, you know there’s nothing aboard to eat, and--and--we might be hungry--so I was thinking--.”

“Well, what?” as Bob hesitated.

“We might take some of those chicken sandwiches along, if your mother didn’t object. They’d come in handy.”

“Well of all things!” gasped Ned. “I believe you’d take a lunch along if you were going to a banquet, for fear you’d be hungry on the road. Go ahead, Chunky. Take all you want of the sandwiches. Here’s a bag,” and he ran to the kitchen and came back with a flour sack.

Bob gravely emptied the plate and also put some pieces of cake and a few pickles into the sack. Then carefully tying it up he followed the others from the room.

It was agreed that Jerry, from having made a more careful study of the machinery than either of the others, should act as engineer on the initial trip. Accordingly Bob and Ned drew lots to see who should steer, and the choice fell to Ned.

With the carpenters watching them curiously the boys climbed aboard and prepared to start. Jerry looked over the machinery, adjusted the valves, saw that the wires leading from the batteries to the cylinder spark plugs were all right, and cranked up. Though the fly wheel was heavy it turned easily because well adjusted and oiled.

“Hurrah! We’re off!” cried Bob.

“Not yet,” said Jerry. “I haven’t thrown in the clutch yet. You forget this is a new style of boat.”

Letting the engine run a few minutes to warm up Jerry went over it all carefully and applied oil where it seemed to need it. He watched the feed cups on the cylinders and saw that they were working properly.

“I guess we can start off on the low gear,” he announced as he grasped the lever and advanced the spark a trifle to make the explosions come more rapidly.

The screw began to revolve and, at the stern of the _Dartaway_ there came a swirl of foam as the blades beat the water.

“Here we go!” cried Bob. “This is something like! It’s got an automobile beat a mile!”

“Don’t say anything against automobiles,” cautioned Jerry. “Ours stood by us well.”

“So it did,” agreed Bob. “But this is simply immense!”

Up the river they went, and about a mile from the float they passed a rowboat containing two boys and two girls.

_Toot! Toot! Toot!_

A shrill whistle sent a blast out as Ned pulled the cord which operated it. The occupants of the rowboat looked up and waved their hands.

“Give us a ride!” they cried.

“It’s Andy Rush, Sam Morton, Alice Vines and Mollie Horton,” said Ned. “Shall we take ’em in, Jerry?”

“Sure,” was the reply. “I’ll slow down. Steer over toward ’em.”

The speed was lessened and Ned threw the wheel around until the _Dartaway_ was headed toward the small craft.

“Look out! Don’t run us down! We’ll upset--I can’t swim--save the girls--don’t blow up the engine--throw us a life preserver--back water--back pedal--put on brakes!” cried one of the boys.

“Oh Andy Rush, you’re enough to give any one a headache!” exclaimed Alice Vines. “No wonder your name is Rush!”

“Stop rowing and we’ll come alongside. Pull in the oars!” cried Jerry, and Ned skillfully put the _Dartaway_ close to the smaller boat. While Bob steadied it against the motor craft the occupants got into the cockpit.

“Shall we tow your boat?” asked Jerry, “or leave it tied up on shore?”

“Better tow it,” said Sam, “we hired it for the afternoon and have to return it.”

So the rowboat was fastened to the stern of the _Dartaway_ and Jerry started the motor up again.

“Isn’t this lovely!” exclaimed Mollie Horton. “Where did you ever get such a beautiful boat?”

“It’s a perfect dream!” came from Alice.

“You bet!” put in Andy. “Nightmare when you smell the gasolene--whoop! Crank her up--don’t explode--get mad--say all sorts of things--turn off the batteries--throw on the magneto--test the spark plugs--get a shock--get madder--then all of a sudden--off you go--whoop!”

“It’s the same old Andy,” said Jerry with a smile.

“I’m going to try her on full speed now,” said Jerry, when after several miles the boat was turned around. He threw the lever over as far as it would go and advanced the spark lever to the end of the rachet.

The _Dartaway_ sprang forward almost as if alive. The water fairly boiled under the stern and she shot down the river at top speed. The engine was purring, throbbing and humming as the explosions came faster and warmed the cylinders up.

“This is something like going!” cried Bob.

Suddenly there was a snap as if something had broken and with a cough and wheeze the engine came to a stop. Jerry sprang forward and shut off the gasolene to avoid flooding the cylinders with it. Then he threw out the clutch.

“Oh! Has something happened?” cried Alice.

“I’m afraid so,” replied Jerry.

“Is it an accident?” asked Mollie, turning pale. “Are we in danger?”

“It’s an accident, but I don’t believe we are in danger,” spoke Jerry. “We can get ashore at the worst. Just sit quietly until I make an investigation.”

The boat was drifting slowly on the current. Then it seemed to hit something and stop.

“We’re on the sand bar!” Ned cried. “I forgot it was right here.”