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