CHAPTER I
Overboard
"Well, the stealing of autos in this neighborhood has come to an end, Frank. Wonder if anybody will ever take to stealing motorboats."
"Perhaps, Joe. But there isn't the chance to steal a boat that there was to steal cars."
"Gee, now that the excitement is over I wonder what will come up next."
"Don't know; but something is bound to happen sooner or later—it always does."
"Hope it comes soon—I don't want to get rusty."
It was a Saturday afternoon in June, one of those warm, drowsy days when even the leaves of the trees seem too indolent to stir. There was scarcely a ripple on the surface of the water, no movement but the flow of the incoming tide.
Three motorboats circled lazily about in Barmet Bay within sight of the city of Bayport. The lazy spirit of the afternoon seemed to have spread to the occupants of the boats, for they lounged about in comfortable attitudes.