"Gracious, they really mean to run us down," cried Jack, in a voice of alarm. "Better sheer off, Noddy, though I hate to do it."
"By jinks, do you see who they are?" cried Bill Raynor, who had been studying the pair in the other boat, which was now only a few yards off. "It's that millionaire Hiram Judson and his son Donald, the boy you had the run in with at the hotel the other day."
But Jack made no reply. The two boats were now almost bowsprit to bowsprit. As for Noddy, the freckles stood out on his pale, frightened face like spots on the sun.
CHAPTER II.
"SPEEDAWAY" VS. "CURLEW."
But at the critical moment the lad at the helm of the other craft, which bore the name Speedaway, appeared to lose his nerve. He sheered off and merely grazed the Curlew's side, scraping off a lot of paint.
"Hi, there! What do you mean by doing such a thing?" demanded Jack, directly the danger of a head-on collision was seen to have been averted.
The other lad broke into a laugh. It was echoed by the man with him, whom he had addressed as "pop."
"Just thought I'd see how much you fellows knew about handling a boat," he sneered. "It's just as I thought, you're a bunch of scare-cats. You needn't have been afraid that I couldn't keep the Speedaway out of danger."