Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol
Page 13
CHAPTER XIII
THE "FLYING FISH" ON HER METTLE
"Bang!"
With a nervous twitch, Rob threw in the first speed clutch, for theengine had been kept running on her neutral speed, and was able to takeup way as soon as the propeller began to "bite."
Rapidly the boy increased the speed up to the third "forward," and theFlying Fish darted through the water like a pickerel after a fat frog.
"Bang!" came behind them once more, as the sound of the cheers whichgreeted them as they shot across the line grew faint.
"Crouch low!" shouted Rob back to his crew. "We'll need every inch ofadvantage we can get."
The white spray shot in a perfect fountain from the sharp bow of theFlying Fish, and her every frame and plank quivered under the vibrationof her powerful engine.
"She's doing better than she ever did!" shouted Merritt to Tubby, whocrouched in the center of the boat, ready to take any part in anemergency.
The other nodded and kept his eyes ahead on the white wake of the otherthree craft.
Suddenly the Albacore began to fall back. As the Flying Fish roared byher, Rob heard a shout of something about "missing fire."
A steady downpour of spray was drenching the occupants of the racer,but they paid scant heed to it. Rob dived in his pockets and put on apair of goggles. The spray was blinding him. He waved to Tubby to gofurther astern and keep the rear part of the boat well down when theymade the sharp turn at the red buoy.
In an incredibly short time, it seemed, the turning buoy faced them.Rob set his wheel over and spun the Flying Fish through the rougherwater at the mouth of the inlet at as sharp an angle as he dared. In afew seconds more they had passed the Snark and the Bonita, which wereracing bow and bow. The crew of the Flying Fish, though, knew thatboth boats had a time allowance over them, so that the mere passingdidn't mean much, unless they could increase the lead.
Faster and faster the boy's craft forged ahead. A thrill shot throughRob's frame. The Flying Fish was showing what she was made of.
But as he turned his head swiftly he saw that the hydroplane hadrounded the stake and was coming down the straight stretch of waterlike an express train. A great wave of water shot out on either sideof her bow. So low in the water had her powerful engines dragged herthat she seemed to be barely on the surface, and yet, as the boys knew,she was actually "coasting" over the surface.
Try as he would, Rob could not get an ounce more speed out of theFlying Fish, and as the speedy hydroplane roared by them they heard amocking shout from her crew.
Rob, more determined than ever to stick it out, sent the Flying Fishplunging at top speed through the wash of the speedy craft, hoping tokeep up the distance between them at least equal. But as he saw thehydroplane gradually drawing away and heard the great roar that went upfrom the thrilled spectators as she shot by the club house, his heartsank.
It looked as if the Plying Fish was beaten. And now the club houseloomed near once more.
"Go on, Plying Fish, go on!"
"You've got a time allowance on her!"
"Push along, Rob!"
"Kr-ee-ee-ee-ee!"
A tumult of other shouts roared in Rob's ears as they tore past thecrowded porch.
"Kr-ee-ee-ee-ee!" screamed back Merritt and Tubby, with waves of thehand to the brown uniformed figures they could see perched on everypoint of vantage.
Suddenly the Flying Fish began to creep up on the hydroplane, which hadslowed down for some reason.
"Hurrah! We've got'em now!" shouted Merritt, as he saw, far ahead,Jack and the other two occupants of the seeming winner leaning over thecraft's engine, the hood having been raised.
Rob said nothing, but with burning eyes clung to the wheel and shot theFlying Fish straight ahead on her course.
As they thundered past the hydroplane, the slender craft lay almostmotionless on the water, with a great cloud of blue smoke tumbling outof her exhausts.
"Looks like they've flooded her cylinder," said Merritt, observingthese signs.
"Kr-ee-ee-ee-ee!"
It was Tubby giving utterance triumphantly to the Eagle scream.
Jack Curtiss straightened up angrily as he heard, his face black andgreasy from his researches into the engine. He shook a menacing fistat the others as they tore by. The next minute, however, a quick lookback by Rob showed that the hydroplane was coming ahead again, and thatthe engine trouble, whatever it was, had been adjusted.
As they neared the turning point, Rob saw, to his dismay, that thehydroplane was creeping up faster and faster. It was the last lap, andif Sam Redding's boat passed them at the stake the race was as good asover.
"Come on, Flying Fish! Come on!" shouted Rob, as the hydroplane creptever nearer and nearer to his boat's stern.
Rob noticed, as he swung a trifle wide of the stake raft, that itseemed to be the intention of Jack Curtiss, who was at the wheel, toswing the hydroplane round the sharp angle of the course inside of theFlying Fish. Guessing that this would mean disaster to her ill-advisedoccupants, he waved his hand at them to keep out.
"When we need your advice we'll send for it. This is the time we'vegot you!" yelled Jack Curtiss, bending low over his wheel, as he grazedby the Flying Fish's stern to take the inside course.
At the same instant, so quickly that the boys did not even get a mentalpicture of it, the hydroplane overturned.
Taking the curve at such a speed and at such a sharp angle had, as Jackhad surmised, proved too much for her stability. Her occupants werepitched struggling into the water.
"Shall we pick them up?" yelled Merritt.
"No," shouted Rob; "they've all got life belts on. A launch from theclub will get them."
Indeed, as he spoke a launch was seen putting off to the rescue. Theaccident had been witnessed from the club, and as the water was warm,the boys were satisfied that no harm would come to the three from theirimmersion.
But the delay almost proved fatal to the Flying Fish's chance ofwinning. Close behind her now came creeping up the speedy Albacore.
But a few hundred feet before the finish the Flying Fish darted aheadonce more, and shook off her opponent amid a great roar of yells andwhoops and cheers. An instant later she shot across the line--a winner.
"Bang!" went the gun, in token that the race was finished.
"I congratulate you," said Commodore Wingate, as the boys brought theircraft up to the float. "It was a well-fought race."
And now came the captains of the Albacore, Snark and Bonita.
"You won the race fairly and squarely," said the former, shaking Rob'shand. "I presume, commodore, the time was taken?"
"It has been," replied that official. "The Flying Fish wins by oneminute and four and seven hundredths seconds."
More cheers greeted this announcement, mingled with laughter and somesympathy, as the club launch, towing the capsized hydroplane, puffed upto the float. From the launch emerged three crestfallen figures withdripping garments. But wet as he was, Jack Curtiss was not going tosurrender the race without a protest.
"A foul! We claim a foul! The Flying Fish fouled us!" he shouted.
"My dear young man," calmly replied the commodore, "I was watching youevery foot of the way through binoculars, and I should rather say thatyou fouled the Flying Fish. Anyhow, you should have better sense thanto try to shave round that turn so closely."
More mortified, and angrier than ever, Jack strode off to put on dryclothes, followed by his equally chagrined companions, who, however,had sense enough now not to make any protests. They knew well enoughthat Jack, in his hurry to grab the prize, had attempted a foolish anddangerous thing which had cost them the race.
"A great race, a great race," said Mr. Blake, as the boys, followed bythe crowd, entered the club house, where the awards were to bedistributed. "You boys certainly covered yourselves with glory," hewent on.
"Yes, and here is your reward. I hope it will stimulate you to put upa fine defense for it next yea
r," said Commodore Wingate, handing tothe elated boys a fine engraved silver cup, the trophy of the HamptonYacht Club.
"Get up and make a speech!" shouted some one.
The boys felt inclined to run for it.
"Go ahead! Make some sort of a talk," urged Rob, helping Tubby on tothe platform from which the prizes had been handed out.
"Ladies and gentlemen," puffed the stout youth, "we want to thank youfor your congratulations and thank the club for the fine cup.Er--er--er--we thank you."
And having made what was perhaps quite as good a speech as some of hiselders', Tubby stepped down amid loud and prolonged cheering.
Up in the dressing room Jack and his cronies, changing into other,garments, heard the sounds of applause.
"It's high time something was done," said Bill, as he gazed from awindow at several of the yacht club attendants bailing out the unluckyhydroplane. "Those young beggars will be owning the town next."