“She’s a beauty,” fervently agreed Joe, with equal enthusiasm; “and what we’ve been through on board her, Nat!”
“I should say so. Remember the Magnetic Islands, and the Boiling Sea, and the time you were lost overboard?”
Chatting thus of the many adventures and perils successfully met that their conversation recalled to their minds, the two young Motor Rangers on the bridge of the speeding motor craft kept a bright lookout for some sign of the vessel that had sent the wireless appeal into space.
Nat was the first to catch sight of a smudge of smoke on the horizon. “That must be the steamer! There, dead ahead!”
“Reckon you’re right, Nat,” agreed Joe. “The smoke seems stationary, too. That’s the Iroquois beyond a doubt.”
Nat sent a signal below, to apply every ounce of speed that the engines were capable of giving. The Nomad, going at a fast clip before, fairly began to rush ahead. In a few minutes they could see the masts of the steamer, and her black hull and yellow funnel rapidly arose above the horizon as they neared her.
At close range the Motor Rangers could see that the white upper works were lined with passengers, all gazing curiously at the speedy Nomad as she came on. As they ranged in alongside, the gangway was lowered and Nat was hailed from the bridge by a stalwart, bearded man in uniform.
“Motor boat, ahoy!” he cried, placing his hands funnel-wise to his mouth, “did you come off in response to our wireless?”
“We did, sir,” was Nat’s rejoinder. “What is the trouble?”
“A job with a good lot of money in it for you fellows,” was the response. “Range in alongside the gangway and Dr. Adams, the ship’s surgeon, will explain to you what has happened.”