Ten minutes later the Comfort was in Radway River, headed up-stream. Just as Paul had said, the current proved very swift, and while the little motor worked faithfully and well, their progress was not very rapid.
Besides, it kept them always on the watch. No one was acquainted with the channel, and the presence of rocks might not always be detected from surface indications. Some of the treacherous snags were apt to lie out of sight, but ready to give them a hard knock, and perhaps smash a hole in the bow.
And so Paul stationed two boys in positions where they could watch for every suspicious eddy, which was to be brought to his attention immediately it was discovered.
An hour passed, and they were still moving steadily up the river. Paul, in reply to many questions by his impatient comrades, announced that to the best of his knowledge they ought to arrive at their destination an hour and more before dark; which pacified the croakers, who had been saying the chances were they would have to spend their first night on the bank, short of the island by a mile or more.
"That's all right," Old Dan Tucker had remarked; "just so long as we get ashore in time to build our cooking fire, it suits me."
Everything seemed to be moving along with clock-like regularity, the boat breasting the current and throwing the spray in fine style, when Jud gave a cry.
"Something's happened to the Speedwell!" he announced.
Of course every eye was instantly turned back, and they were just in time to see something that announced the truth of Jud's assertion.
Andy Flinn stood up in the bow of the second boat, which no longer chugged away as before, and he threw something out that splashed in the water.
"It's their anchor!" cried Jud. "Either somebody's overboard, or else their motor's broken down!"