“Hi, you! Get out of the way there! Look where you’re running!” exclaimed Jack, in alarm.
“Ha-ha! Don’t get scared,” sang out a youth at the wheel of the motor-boat. “We won’t run you down.”
By this time the motor-boat was directly alongside of the rowboat. It came so close that the oars on that side scraped the hull of the heavier craft. There was a tremendous swell from the propeller, and the next instant a small wave hit the gunwale and dashed over the Rover boys’ feet. The rowboat bobbed up and down in the narrow channel like a cork, the water foaming and churning all around it. In the meanwhile the motor-boat darted ahead and was soon out on the broad bosom of Clearwater Lake.
“Well, of all the gall!” burst out Andy, as soon as he could recover from his astonishment.
“They did that on purpose!” burst out Jack. “Did you see who was at the wheel?”
“It was Tommy Flanders!” cried Randy.
“He’s sore over the way he was batted out of the box in those baseball games,” remarked Fred. “Just the same, he had no business to endanger our lives in this narrow passage. I wish we could get hold of him,” and he shook his head angrily.
“We can’t follow a motor-boat in a rowboat,” answered Jack. “Just the same, we ought to let him hear from us about this.”
“If we only had one of our own new motor-boats,” groaned Fred, “I bet we could catch that old tub!”
“Did you notice who the fellows in the gaudy uniforms were?” questioned Andy. “Our beloved friends, Halliday and Sands!”