"Stop it, Evarts!" Tom cut in crisply. "I don't mind a little grumbling
at the right time, and I often do a bit myself, but not when I'm as rushed
as I am to-night. There's the dock ahead, men---a little faster spurt
now!"

Tom urged his men along to the dock. With no loss of time they tumbled
aboard the "Morton," a broad, somewhat shallow, forty-foot motor boat of
open construction.

"Get up and take the wheel, Evarts," Tom. directed. "Get at work on your
spark, Conlon, and I'll throw the drive-wheel over for you. Some of you
men cast, off!"

In a very short time the "Morton" was going "put-put-put" away from the
dock.

Tom, after seeing that everything was moving satisfactorily, turned around
to look at the four men huddled astern.

"Don't any of you go to sleep," he urged. "A good part of our success
depends on how well you all keep awake and use your eyes and ears."

That said, Tom Reade hastened forward, stationing himself close to Evarts,
who had the steering wheel.

Some of the men astern began to talk.

"Silence, if you please," Tom called softly. "Don't talk except on matters
of business. We want to be able to use our ears. Conlon, make your engine
a little less noisy if you can."