“Have lots of business today?” asked Tom.
“Biggest day in the twenty odd years I’ve had the Queen on the lake,” he chuckled. “The old girl is about on her last legs but this season looks like the best of all. If the paved road goes through they’ll all come in cars and the railroad and the Queen will be out of luck.”
“But you’re not objecting to the paved road, are you?” asked Helen.
“Course not,” he replied. “It’s progress and you can’t stop it.”
The Queen, ablaze with lights, churned steadily up the lake and the electrics along the beach at Sandy Point faded into a string of dots. Speed boats, showing their red and green riding lights, raced past in smothers of foam but the Queen rocked only slightly as they passed and continued steadily on her way.
The band on the after part of the top deck played slower, softer melodies and the whole scene was one of calm and quiet, a fitting end for a great celebration.
Of all the people on the Queen, only Captain Billy in the pilot house and the crew in the black depths of the engine room were alive to the dangers of the night. They knew how anything unusual and startling might cause a panic which would capsize the Queen or how careless navigation on the part of Captain Billy might shove the Queen onto one of the jagged ledges of rock which were hazards to navigation in certain parts of the lake. But the Queen passed safely through the rock-strewn sections of the lake and Captain Billy relaxed as the lights of Rolfe came into view.
The Queen was less than half a mile from her pier when the unexpected happened. A speed boat, without lights, loomed out of the night.
Screams echoed from the lower deck. Before Captain Billy could twirl his wheel and shift the blunt nose of the Queen, the speed boat knifed into the bow of the old steamer.
There was the crash of splintering wood, and muffled cries from the men and women in the smaller boat.