demoralize them.

"Getting more shoal, Paul," warned the pole heaver.

"How much water have you now?" demanded the leader, ready to give the
signal for bringing both motorboats to a stop, when it seemed necessary.

"Eight feet, last time; now it's about seven, short," announced Jud.

"Keep on sounding, and when it gets down to three, let me know,"
ordered Paul.

They were creeping along at a snail's pace now, so even should either
boat strike mud bottom, which Jud had declared it to be, no particular
damage would result.

The shore was very close, and still Jud admitted that there was
plenty of water.

"Keeps up in great shape, Commodore," he remarked, "reckon we could go
ashore here if we felt that way."

"Which we don't," declared Gusty Bellows, in a low tone.

And not a single voice was raised in favor of such a proceeding; if there
were any timid souls present, they failed to exhibit their weakness,
either through fear of boyish ridicule, or some other reason.

Then Paul shut off power, and when he no longer heard the sound of the
_Comfort's_ exhaust, Jack followed suit.