“That’s so, I guess I had better keep quiet,” admitted Bob in a low voice.
Quite a crowd had collected on the dock, and one man, who had a carriage, offered to take Noddy home. This was decided on, and soon, in the care of the physician, the bully was taken away. He had not recovered sufficiently to thank his rescuers, but the motor boys felt that the less they had to do with Noddy the better for them. They had done their duty, and were content to let it go at that.
“Think we can go up against the current?” asked Ned of Jerry.
“I’m not going to try it. The river will soon go down, for the water in the mill pond will all be out by night. We’ll just leave our boat tied up here. No use taking any chances on hitting a floating log, and stoving a hole in the Dartaway. We’ll come down and get her to-night.”
The motor boys made their way out of the crowd, from the members of which came murmurs of praise at the plucky act of our heroes. Noddy’s boathouse disappeared around the bend of the stream, and, a little later, was pounded to pieces in the rapids.
The three chums, with the professor and Andy Rush, made their way back to Ned’s house, talking on the way of what had happened.
“Well, it’s all over,” remarked Ned, as they came opposite the broken dam. “See, the pond is almost emptied. They can mend the break now. That was an exciting time while it lasted.”
“That’s right,” agreed the others.
“Let’s get that lunch we were starting on when Andy interrupted us,” suggested Bob.
“Chunky, you’re hopeless!” cried Jerry. “You’d eat if the world was coming to an end, I believe.”