“My motorboat!” he cried. “It’s gone! Some one has it! If it’s stolen—”
He broke into a run, and as he had a good view of the river he saw his boat out in the middle of the stream.
“Well, of all the nerve!” he cried. “Dent Wilcox has taken my boat without asking me. I’ll fix him!”
Then he noticed that the boat was not running under her own power, but was drifting down stream.
“Hi there, Dent! What’s the matter with you?” Tom cried. “What did you take my boat for? Why don’t you start up and run her back here?”
The lazy lad addressed looked up from what was evidently a contemplation of the stalled engine.
“Start her going!” cried Tom. “Start the engine, or you’ll be on the rocks!”
“I can’t,” yelled back Dent. “She’s stopped.”
“Crank her,” ordered Tom. “Turn the flywheel over!”