“That big boat can certainly travel!” exclaimed Chet.
“I’ll say it can. If he doesn’t change his course that chap will travel right into us.”
As the big boat drew nearer the boys saw that there were two men on board. Frank mentally checked over the various ice-boats he had seen on the bay and thought he recognized the approaching boat as belonging to Tad Carson and Ike Nash, two young men of unsavory repute in the city. They were loud-mouthed, insolent fellows who had never been known to do a day’s work, and it was a mystery how they had managed to raise sufficient money to buy the ice-boat in which they were now amusing themselves.
“He’d better change his course,” said Joe nervously. “He’s heading right toward us.”
“Not if I know it,” said Frank. “If he won’t change, then I will.”
He bore down on the tiller and their ice-boat swung around out of the path of the other.
Then, to their amazement and consternation, the lads saw that the big craft had also swung around and that it was still hurtling forward at terrific speed.
“They’re going to run us down!” shouted Chet, in alarm.
The big boat was only fifty yards away. The lads could see Ike Nash at the tiller, his mouth open in an ugly grin.
In another moment, the big craft would crash broadside into the small boat, and so great was its speed that the Hardy boys’ boat would certainly be wrecked beyond repair and it was possible that the boys themselves might be seriously injured.