“And one they won’t forget in a hurry,” chimed in Roy Pinger, bubbling over with glee. “Bates will think his old ‘Reindeer’ is moving backward.”
“That Colonel and the chaffer want to get on your house-boat, my four Bills,” remarked Stiles, presently. “And our job——”
“Is to show the Thornton chaps they can’t put him there,” laughed Sam Grigsby. “We’re gaining on ’em fast.”
“Only a few minutes more,” breathed Roy Pinger. “Keep her a bit out, Stiles—that’s it—steady! Remember, you chaps, that Ripley’s reputation is at stake.”
“My eye! Don’t fear—we’re not going to forget it,” grinned Harry Cole.
Steadily the swifter “Dart” gained on its rival. Already the dark forms of the “Reindeer’s” crew began to grow more distinct.
A loud, long and sarcastic call came over the intervening space. Lon Bates had a tremendous voice, and knew how to use it.
A rousing answer was immediately returned. Then, with eager eyes, the boys watched the space between the motor boats slowly lessening.
“We’re doing it now,” cried Bill Stiles, gleefully. “Get ready, fellows.”
“I say,” put in Fred Winter, nervously, “aren’t you chaps getting kind of reckless?”