“If they had touched you, old splendid,” growled Joe, “we’d have had a good clew or two for avenging you. But those rascals didn’t even hurt your grit. You’re ready for ’em again—if they come!”
For some time the boys were too excited to lie down again. When at last they did, they kept their trousers on, ready for any further surprise. Bouncer took up his old post on the deck above, seemingly free from any trace of excitement.
It was nearly half-past six in the morning when Joe next opened his eyes. In a hurry he roused his chum. Donning bathing trunks and shirts both dropped over the side for a refreshing swim. Then after drying and dressing, Halstead went forward into the galley, while Joe snatched a few minutes at the work left over from the night.
Breakfast was a hurried affair, for there was still much to do about the motor. It was after nine o’clock when Tom stood back, looking on inquiringly while Joe put on the finishing touches.
“Now I’ll turn on the gasoline and see if we can get any news,” proposed Joe. A few moments later he started the ignition apparatus and gave the drive wheel a few turns.
Chug! chug! the engine began slowly. Joe, oil can in hand, looked on with the attention of a scientist making an experiment. Bit by bit he increased the speed of the engine, smoothing the work with oil.
“Give us a little time and the old motor’ll mote,” observed Dawson quietly.
“Yes,” nodded Tom equally observant.
Had they been more of amateurs at the work they would have felt elated, for the engine responded to all increased speeds that were tried. But these two had worked enough about motors to know that such an engine may come to a creaking stop when everything appears to be running at the best.
Chug! chug! It was a cheery sound as the minutes went by and the motor did better and better.