The Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol | Page 7

there later on in the summer, and the bully
and his two chums were not regarded by them as desirable neighbors.
However, they said nothing, as they could not claim sole right to use
the island, which was property that had been so long in litigation that It
had come to be known as "No Man's Land" as well as by its proper
name. The captain was only a squatter there, but no one cared to disturb
him, and he had led the existence of a semi-hermit there for many
years.
The Flying Fish rapidly covered the calm waters of the inlet and was
soon dancing over the swells outside.
"I'm going to let her out a bit," said Rob suddenly; "look out for spray."
"Spray don't bother a brine-pickled old salt like me," laughed the
captain. "Let her go."

The Flying Fish seemed fairly to leap forward as Merritt gave her the
full power of her engine. As Rob had said, it did indeed behoove her
occupants to look out for spray. The sparkling spume came flying back
in sheets as she cut through the waves, but the boys didn't mind that
any more than did their weather-beaten companion. As for Skipper, he
barked aloud in sheer joy as the Flying Fish slid along as if she were
trying to live up to her name to her utmost ability.
"This is a good little sea boat," remarked the captain, as they plunged
onward. "She's as seaworthy as she is speedy, I guess."
"She'll stand a lot of knocking about, and that's a fact," agreed Rob.
"Well," remarked the old man, gazing about him, "it's a good thing that
she is, fer, if I'm not mistaken--and I'm not often off as regards the
weather--we are goin' ter have quite a little blow before yer boys get
back home."
"A storm?" asked Tubby, somewhat alarmed.
"Oh, no; not what yer might call a storm," laughed the captain; "but just
what we used to term a 'capful uv wind.'"
"Well, so long as it isn't a really bad blow, it won't trouble the Flying
Fish," Rob assured him.
"Hullo!" exclaimed the old man suddenly. "What queer kind uv craft is
that?"
He pointed back to the mouth of the now distant inlet, from which a
curious-looking black craft was emerging at what seemed to be great
speed.
"It's that hydroplane of Sam Redding's, for a bet!" cried Rob. "Here,
Tubby, take the wheel a minute, while I put the glasses on her."
The lad stood up in the heaving motor craft, steadying himself against
the bulwarks by his knees, and peered through his marine-glasses.

"It's the hydroplane, sure enough," he said. "By ginger, but she can go,
all right! Sam and Jack and Bill are all in her. They seem to be heading
right out to sea, too."
"Say!" exclaimed Tubby suddenly, "if it comes on to blow, as the
captain said it would, they'll be in a bad fix, won't they?"
"In that ther shoe-box thing," scornfully exclaimed the old captain, who
had also been looking through the glasses, "why, I wouldn't give a
confederate dollar bill with a hole in it fer their lives."
CHAPTER III
BOY SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE
"Hadn't we better put back and warn them?" suggested Merritt rather
anxiously, for he was alarmed by the confident manner in which the old
seaman prophesied certain disaster to the hydroplane if the weather
freshened.
"No; see, she's heading toward us. I guess they want a race," cried Rob.
"We'll slow down a bit and let them catch up."
In a few moments the hydroplane was alongside. The yellow hood over
her powerful engines glistened with the wet of the great bow-wave her
speed had occasioned, and her powerful motor was exhausting with a
roar like a battery of machine guns.
Crouched aft of the engine hood was Sam Redding, who held the wheel.
Jack Curtiss and Bill Bender were in the stern. They sat tandem-wise in
the narrow racing shell.
"Want a tow rope for that old stone dray of yours?" jeered Jack Curtiss,
as the speedy little racer ranged alongside.
He did not know that the Flying Fish was slowed down, and that
although the hydroplane appeared to be capable of tremendous speed,
she was not actually so very much faster than Rob's boat.

"Say, you fellows," warned Rob, making a trumpet of his hands, "the
captain says it's coming on to blow before long. You'd better get back
into the inlet with that craft of yours."
"Save your breath to cool your coffee," shouted Sam Redding back at
him, across the fifty feet or so of water that lay between the two boats.
"We know what we are about."
"But you're risking your lives," shouted Merritt. "That thing wouldn't