The latest emergency caused Mr. Holloway to divert his attention from the motorboat. Anxiously, he examined the jagged hole in the mahogany over-lap through which a trickle of water oozed.
“Midge, give me that rag under the seat!” he directed.
As his son handed it over, Mr. Holloway wedged it as tightly as he could into the larger hole, pressing it in with his knife blade.
“That should help some, but we’re still shipping water,” he said anxiously. “We’ll have to bail.”
Already Dan was at work dipping with the tin can which was kept for just such an emergency. While Mr. Holloway paddled hard for shore, he and Midge took turns dipping water from the bottom of the boat. By working steadily, they could keep ahead of it.
“I’d certainly like to know who those men were that struck us,” Mr. Holloway remarked. “Aside from the damage they’ve done to our boat, they’re a menace on the river.”
“Dad, didn’t you think the boat looked a little like Jonathan Manheim’s?” Midge inquired. “It was built on the same general lines.”
“I did notice a resemblance,” Mr. Holloway replied. “But I never before saw the man at the wheel. I’d hate to think it was Manheim’s boat.”
Fairly well known to the Cubs, Mr. Manheim was the owner of Skeleton Island and a prominent member of the Webster City Yacht Club.
“Do you think he would try to run us down deliberately?” Dan asked, working steadily with the bailing can.