CHAPTER XXIII
UNEXPECTED HELP
"Well, we certainly are up against it--good and proper!" exclaimedJack. "And I'm glad the girls aren't along!"
"Why?" asked Walter, leaning back against the gunwale to rest afterlaboring over the refractory engine of the _Dixie_.
"Because they can't call me down for my slang. And believe muh--as thetelephone girls say--I can use slang now and then--some!"
"It is aggravating; isn't it?" asked Dray.
"Aggravating, my dear chap, is hardly the word," drawled Ed. "It'shumiliating!"
He brought that out in such a droll way that the others laughed.
For the engine of the motor boat still refused to be coaxed intogoing. They were being carried out toward the mouth of the bay on theoutgoing tide, which was now running strongly. Soon they would be outto sea, and though the moon still shone brightly there was a haze inthe sky that betokened a coming storm.
But it was not so much the fact of the stalled engine, nor that theywere being carried out to sea, and were in some danger, that worriedthe boys.
"We're falling down on what we said we'd do," declared Jack. "Wepromised the girls that we'd save Denny from those fellows, and wecan't do it. They may be at him now."
"We certainly saw a light at his cabin," ventured Ed.
"But we can't see it now," added Jack, straining his eyes for aglimpse of the spot where the fisherman's shack stood.
"Well, there's no use worrying over what can't be helped," observedWalter, philosophically. "We're here and not there. Denny will have tolook out for himself--I guess he's able."
"That isn't the point," rejoined Jack. "There we took the case out ofthe girls' hands, so to speak. We said we were the big noise, and thatwe'd look after things. Then we go and get stuck miles from shorewhere we can't do a thing. They'll laugh at us when we do get back, ifthey don't do any worse."
"But we didn't know we were going to get stuck when we came out for alittle run, after we found Denny wasn't home," said Dray.
"That's no excuse," returned Jack. "It's like a child breaking thelooking glass and then saying he didn't mean to. Well, I know onething Cora will say when we get back--if we ever do--and own up thatwe weren't on hand when the play came off."
"What will she say?" asked Dray. He was not well acquainted with thedoings and sayings of the motor girls, as yet.
"She'll say that she and Bess and Belle and the rest of them couldhave done better themselves, if we'd left it to them. And I guessshe'd be more than half right," sighed Jack.
"Well, there's no use crying over a bridge before you come to it,"observed Dray. "Let's have another go at that engine."
They began their labors all over again. They even took out the sparkplugs, though they had been new that afternoon.
Nothing could be found wrong there. The feed pipe from the gasolinetank was examined, but it seemed to provide a good flow. The timer wasadjusted and readjusted. The coil was looked to. Everything, in short,that the boys could think of, or that previous trouble had taught themto look for, was tried, and all with no effect.
They even did more absurd things, such as the talcum powder act, whileJack spouted some Latin verses at the forward cylinder. But the motorrefused to mote.
"And, all the while, we're going out to sea," remarked Walter.
"Out to sea to see what we can see," said Jack.
"Oh, hush-a-bye-baby on the jokes," exclaimed Dray, a bit petulantly."If ever I buy a speed boat again you'll know it! A good old-fashionedmake-and-break motor for mine after this--one you can depend on."
"Haven't you an oar or a paddle?" asked Ed.
"Not a thing that we could use to work against the tide," answeredDray, gloomily. "There's a boat hook, but that isn't any better than astraw. I left the oars out after the man got through fixing the motorto-day. He said I wouldn't need them."
"The regard that individual has for the truth is something scandalous!"said Walter, grimly. "I shall acquaint him with the fact on my return."
"When we _do_ return," returned Jack, gloomily.
"Oh, we're bound to be picked up--sooner or later," declared Walter.
"Mostly later," went on Jack, more gloomily.
"Well, here goes for another try," said Dray.
"That's right. Maybe the machine has just been giving us a try-out,"suggested Ed. "We certainly have said mean things about you, old Mote!"he went on sarcastically. "Kindly forgive us and go. 'See by moonlight'tis 'most midnight, time boat and us were home hour-and-a-half ago,'"he said, quoting from the old nursery rhyme.
But the motor only coughed and sighed and wheezed like an old man withthe asthma, and the boat still drifted.
They called, they blew on the compressed air whistle until all thereserve supply of oxygen was exhausted from the tank, and then theyhad to resort to their voices again.
"Well, there's one thing left," answered Jack, tragically.
"What is it?" begged Ed.
"We can swim for it. That's better than being carried out to sea.Let's swim before it is too late."
"That's what I say!" exclaimed Dray. "Let the _Dixie_ go--she's nogood!"
The others were considering Jack's startling proposal, when Ed lookedup, and exclaimed:
"Hark! Don't you hear something?"
The others listened. Faintly from the direction of the sea came asound--unmistakable.
"A boat!" cried Jack. "I'll not take off my coat yet."
"A motor boat, too," added Ed.
"And coming this way," went on Walter.
"Come on, fellows, give 'em a hail!" suggested Dray.
Up to now, with all their shouting and blowing of the whistle, theyhad neither seen nor heard of a craft. They had drifted too far out.If any had come within hearing distance the occupants had paid no heedto the calls for help. Now there was one approaching, that wasevident.
"All together, now!" called Jack, and they united their voices in ashout.
"There are her lights!" called Dray.
"Yes, and she's heading right over here," agreed Ed.
A little later the red and green lights came nearer.
Then, as the craft surged up to the stalled Dixie, and came to a stop,the engine still running with the clutch thrown out, a voice asked:
"Do you fellows want a tow?"
"Do we?" came in a chorus. "We don't want anything any more."
"Fling us your rope," was the curt order.
Unexpected help had arrived. But it was too late.
The Motor Girls on Crystal Bay; or, The Secret of the Red Oar Page 23
