“How long have we been coming? How far are we?” asked Lanky.
“It’s quite a distance yet to Coville,” muttered Frank, speaking slowly. “We ought to make it pretty soon, but it’s going to take speed to get us there and back again, I’m afraid. I only wish there had been some quicker way to get to that drugstore than this. And, the worst of it is, that we have to go back yet, and we’ll be going against the current.”
“Don’t let that worry you, Frank,” replied Lanky reassuringly. “The Rocket’s showing what’s in her. We’ll get back in nothing flat.”
It was quite true that the Rocket was showing what was in her, for the bow stood far out of the water now, with the load well aft, and the wash of the river showed behind them that they were cutting a slight, though rapid, furrow through the water.
Time brings about a healing influence, and time also brings about a lack of watchfulness. Just so it was this night.
As the conversation between the boys went on, not spiritedly, but continuous nevertheless, Frank’s grip on the wheel was relaxed, though his eyes seemed never to leave the river ahead.
They came to a hairpin bend in the stream, one which was famous as a place for picnics on the point which jutted into the Harrapin. The searchlight, fixed ahead, swung around as Frank negotiated, or started to negotiate, the bend which he had never met before while in command of a craft.
Like a huge mountain there suddenly loomed from out of the darkness a great bulk which blocked their path!
“Look out!” yelled Lanky, as the thing came into sight.
But Frank had seen it, had seen the lights on either side, had seen the tremendous bulk of the thing which looked down upon them frowningly.