The Sleuth roared on, rocking and swaying, with spray dashing over the bows. There was no doubt as to which was the swifter craft. Tony was being left behind.
When a gap of three or four hundred yards separated the two boats and when it was apparent that he had no hope of overhauling his rival, Tony lessened the speed of his craft as a signal that he had been beaten. Frank immediately throttled down the Sleuth and swung her around in a wide circle. Then, at a more reasonable speed, they went back to meet Tony.
Their chum was astonished beyond all measure.
"I thought you were just kidding when you said you'd race with me," he shouted, as they drew closer.
"No kidding about that race, was there?"
"I'll say there wasn't! I let my old boat out as fast as she'd go. I thought the engine was going to jump out, once or twice. I didn't think there was a motorboat in the bay could beat mine, but I guess that tub of yours has it beat. When did you get it?"
"This is the first time we've been out."
"Wish I could stick around and race with you again," said Tony regretfully. "But I have to go back to the boathouse. I promised my father I'd help him at the warehouse this morning."
"Tough luck," sympathized Frank. "We may see you this afternoon. But no more racing until the engine is worked in a bit better. It was foolish to let her out while she is so stiff."
"Where are you going now?"