“We’re getting into those hyacinths deeper and deeper,” Jack remarked uneasily. “Why don’t we turn back?”
Glancing over his shoulder, he was rather dismayed to see an almost solid meadow of water plants behind the boat.
“It would be easy to get lost in this mess,” he remarked. “But I suppose Haredia knows what he’s doing.”
The sled kept stubbornly on, its laboring engines cutting a passage.
Then suddenly the motor set up a frightful clatter and the boat began to move in jerks.
“We’ve done it now!” Jack exclaimed. “The motor’s shot!”
Mr. Livingston left his chair and went over to see what he could do to help. Haredia, nervous and perspiring, brushed aside his offer.
“Don’t bother me now!” he rasped. “We’ll get out of this!”
“We will, if you use your head,” the Scout leader replied. “But you can’t keep on without ruining the motor. It sounds to me as if the clutch has slipped.”
“What do you expect me to do?” Haredia demanded savagely. “Fix it here?”