They raced down the sloping woods path.
“Where’s the guard—where’s everybody?” Sandy shouted.
The men came running. They had scanned the place by the wharf, and, satisfied that no one lurked there and that the tender was secure, they had gone further along the inlet coast.
“No one’s in the tender!” Larry exclaimed.
“It’s the hydroplane, then!” Dick decided. “It’s coming from the water-dock inside the boathouse, now—there it is. Hey! You! Stop!”
Seamen, the mate, Pilot Tommy Larsen, servants, dashed up.
“What’s happened? What’s the excitement? The hydroplane—there it goes!”
Their shouts came in a chorus of helpless questions and suggestions.
“Man the yacht tender!” ordered Captain Parks. His men tumbled into it.
“That isn’t fast enough!” objected Pilot Larsen. “I’d fly that amphibian crate only—I’m too weak and dizzy——”