As the Rocket now faced downstream again, Frank cut off the speed, and reached for the searchlight. But the plug had fallen out in the trip around, and no light was cast forward!
“Paul! Paul! Are you all right?” yelled Frank as soon as he realized that his chance of seeing the boy was gone.
“Here!” came a voice from the water, and Frank got the propeller into reverse, churning the Harrapin into a wild foam in order not to go past the point and also in order that he might not run down his friend.
Suddenly a hand shot up out of the water, and Lanky grabbed quickly to give the boy help. In another minute a very wet Paul Bird came into the boat from the waters of the Harrapin River.
“Wow! Some wetting!” he gasped.
In the meanwhile the other boat had gone its way quietly, or it seemed quietly, for no sound had come from it after the cry that preceded the sudden swerve of the Rocket which averted the collision.
There was no chance to continue down the river without lights, and Frank called to Lanky to hold the wheel while he made the repair.
However, Lanky Wallace was not to be denied that single thing which he could do, for it had become his part of the operation of the Rocket to see that the lights were in order.
Instead of obeying Frank and taking hold of the wheel, Lanky, knowing what had happened, or surmising it as well as Frank, groped his way to the searchlight and felt around for the loose wire. He found it in a moment, felt along the fallen wire until he found the plug, and slipped it back into the socket of the swinging search. It almost seemed that they heard the swish of the light when the connection was made and the beam suddenly shot out and lighted the Harrapin in a bright glare.
“Where is that other boat?” asked Lanky Wallace, looking around and moving the light to and fro over the river. But no motor boat was in sight. Advantage had been taken, if there was any advantage wanted by the occupants thereof, and it had disappeared.