“Had her going, did you?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Dick, “she ran all the way from Silver Cove and went finely; made six miles an hour easily.” He threw a defiant glance at Chub.
“To be exact,” amended that youth solemnly, “six miles and one eighth by the patent log.”
“Well, let’s see,” said Billy Noon. “I guess there’s nothing very wrong.” He picked up the handle, fitted it to the fly-wheel and turned her over several times without results. Then he tested the battery, an operation which the boys watched with interest, and got a good spark.
[“‘What did he tell us he gave for that boat?’”]
“Nothing wrong there,” he mused.
“Have you ever run a launch?” asked Roy curiously.