“She’s a beauty!” breathed Frank in deep admiration.
“I’ll say!”
“The smoothest looking boat on the bay!”
“And I’ll bet it’s the fastest.”
“Oh, boy, if we’d only known this was here all week!”
Without further ado, the boys descended from the landing stage and got into the boat to inspect the craft more closely. Everything they saw only served to confirm their first impression that the Sleuth was without doubt the neatest, most compact and most beautiful motorboat ever launched. The fittings were bright and shining, the wheel responded to the lightest touch.
“How’s the gas and oil?” asked Frank, settling into the steersman’s seat.
“Full up. And look, Frank, even the license is here!”
“All right. Cast off.”
Joe opened the boathouse doors, unhooked the chains that kept the craft secure, and then leaped into the Sleuth as the engine spluttered and roared. Frank threw in the clutch, the roar died away to a purr, and the boat backed swiftly and smoothly out into the bay.
“The engine runs like a watch!” reported Frank, in delight.
Once outside the boathouse he headed the craft out toward the open bay. It was soon apparent that the engine of the Sleuth was very powerful, for the boat leaped forward as Frank increased speed, and yet there was very little noise. The nose of the boat cut the water like a knife and the craft skimmed out into the bay like a swallow.
Both boys were almost inarticulate with delight. The sense of speed and freedom held them spellbound. Frank changed places with Joe and gave his brother a turn at the wheel. Joe was astonished at the immediate response that came to his lightest touch.
In anticipation of getting the boat both lads had taken lessons in running such a craft from Tony Prito and others who had motorboats and, as a consequence, Joe and Frank felt thoroughly at home with both the engine and the steering wheel.
They circled about and came down toward shore again. It was a sunny morning and two or three motorboats were spluttering and backfiring in their shelters near the shore. Out of one boathouse came a rakish black craft that the boys recognized instantly as the motorboat belonging to Tony Prito’s father.
“There’s Tony!” exclaimed Frank. “He always goes boating on Saturday mornings. Let’s give him a race.”
“His boat’s supposed to be the fastest on the bay.”
“I don’t care whether it is or not. He’ll have to go some to beat the Sleuth. We’ll challenge him.”
Although Tony had seen their boat he had not yet recognized the boys in it and when they drew alongside he gave a shout of surprise.
“Well, gee whiz!” he exclaimed. “Look who’s here! I was wondering who owned the swell new tub. Is this the new boat?”
“This is she. And she’s fast, boy—she’s fast. Want to race?”
Tony laughed.
“I hate to show you up so soon. You won’t like your new boat near so well if I beat you the first time you get into a race.”
“You won’t beat us. You’ve got a pretty speedy old boat there, all right, but you’ve met your match this time.”
“Do you really think you can lick me?” asked Tony. “You know you haven’t a chance. This is a real speed boat.”
“This is a better one. Come on—we’ll start from that buoy.”
Frank pointed to a buoy that was riding the waves about a hundred yards away and the two boats sped toward it. They kept on even terms until they came abreast of the buoy and then Tony shouted:
“Now!”
At the same instant, the boats leaped forward. The engine of Tony’s craft set up a deafening roar, but the Sleuth merely changed from a purr to a growl and sprang swiftly through the water.
Tony had the advantage in that he knew his boat well and he knew just how much power it would stand. Within half a minute he had established a substantial lead, while the Sleuth was surging along in his wake.
But Frank knew that the boat was more powerful than it seemed.
Gradually, he “let her out,” and the Sleuth responded until at last he could see that they were gaining on the craft ahead. By this time Tony was tearing along at the highest speed of which his swift craft was capable, and the boat was almost rising out of the water with the force of its momentum.
Rapidly, the Sleuth overhauled the flying craft, swiftly it drew abreast, and the boys had a glimpse of Tony’s astonished face as he glanced over the side at them.
The Sleuth roared on, rocking and swaying, with spray dashing over the bows. There was no doubt as to which was the swifter craft. Tony was being left behind.
When a gap of three or four hundred yards separated the two boats and when it was apparent that he had no hope of overhauling his rival, Tony lessened the speed of his craft as a signal that he had been beaten. Frank immediately throttled down the Sleuth and swung her around in a wide circle. Then, at a more reasonable speed, they went back to meet Tony.
Their chum was astonished beyond all measure.
“I thought you were just kidding when you said you’d race with me,” he shouted, as they drew closer.
“No kidding about that race, was there?”
“I’ll say there wasn’t! I let my old boat out as fast as she’d go. I thought the engine was going to jump out, once or twice. I didn’t think there was a motorboat in the bay could beat mine, but I guess that tub of yours has it beat. When did you get it?”
“This is the first time we’ve been out.”
“Wish I could stick around and race with you again,” said
