The motor boat, being lightened of her load, rode higher in the water, and when sufficient force had been applied to the rope, she slid off the log into deep water.
“Hurray!” cried Andy. “That’s the stuff! Now we’re all right. Away again!”
“Not quite yet,” warned Jerry. “Those leaks will have to be attended to. Is there a drydock around here?” he asked the man who had helped them.
“About three miles down the lake—yes. Think you can make it?”
“Oh, I guess so, if we don’t have any more hard luck.”
“It’s too bad you ran on that tree,” the man went on. “It must have drifted there lately. I’ll mark it, and then get it out of the channel. Well, good luck to you.”
The boys embarked once more, and started for the boat yard. The water came in rapidly, but by means of the hand and motor pumps it was kept below the level of the cabin floor, and out of the engine compartment. Then, on reaching the place whither the man had directed them, the Scud was put on the car of the marine railway, and hauled out to have her seams caulked.
This would take two days, and she would need a coat of paint below the water line, so the boys found themselves with unexpected time on their hands.
They made it pass as best they could, in the small town where they had been forced to lie over. Fortunately the place was a sort of summer resort, and as the season was at its height the boys did not lack for such amusements as moving picture shows and other like attractions. But they were glad when they could resume their trip down the lake.