It was shortly before noon when they guided the Scud up to Kroll’s boat dock, and as they made their craft fast, and scrambled out, taking only a few belongings with them, one of the workmen cried:
“What’s your hurry? What’s the matter?”
“Can’t stop to tell now,” Jerry shouted back over his shoulder. “Fix the boat up—mend that valve spring and have her ready for a dash some time late to-night or early to-morrow morning!”
There was no delay at the place where the auto had been left. Fortunately the gasoline and oil tanks were filled, and explaining to the garage keeper their need of haste the two chums were off again.
On and on they rushed. The first part of the auto trip was over good roads, and for this the boys were thankful. It was about a hundred miles to Brookville, where they hoped to find Dr. Wright. They had about five hours of daylight in which to make it and it would need an average speed of twenty miles an hour to cover this.
“If we can reach Brookville by supper time, and persuade Dr. Wright to come back with us, we ought to get back to the boat some time in the early morning,” Jerry calculated. “That will give us a long day to make the trip back to camp.”
“Yes, if nothing happens,” Bob assented.
“Nothing must happen!” cried Jerry fiercely.
And, for a time, all went well. Then, when they had covered a bad bit of road, and reached a smooth stretch, and when Jerry had put on full speed, there came a sharp explosion.