CHAPTER X
The New Boat
A week went by, a week in which the Hardy boys and their chums again wrestled with refractory Latin phrases and geometrical problems, as the examinations drew near. There was little time for fun, even outside school hours. The boys were all overcome by that helpless feeling that comes with the approach of examinations, the feeling that everything they had ever known had somehow escaped their memory and that as fast as they learned one fact they forgot another.
But the week was over at last and on Saturday morning Fenton Hardy looked up from his newspaper with a quiet smile.
"What's the program for to-day?" he asked of his sons.
"Nothing in particular," said Frank. "I was thinking I'd dig into the Latin for an hour or so, although I'm so sick of the sight of that book that I'd like to throw it out the window."
"I'm away behind in my algebra," spoke up Joe. "But it's too nice a day to study. Anyway, I've been working hard all week."
"Perhaps if you went down to the boathouse you might find something there," suggested their father casually.
The boys stared incredulously. Then they gave a simultaneous whoop of delight.
"You don't mean to say the motorboat is here?" exclaimed Frank.
Their father had taken charge of the buying of the motorboat for them. They had not expected that the craft would arrive until the start of the summer holidays.
Fenton Hardy merely smiled and turned to the financial page.
"It mightn't be a bad idea to go down to the boathouse anyway," he said.
The boys needed no further urging. Within a few seconds they were scrambling for their caps, within the minute they were racing down the front steps, and soon they were hastening toward Barmet Bay.
In preparation for the arrival of the motorboat they had rented a boathouse on the southern shore of the bay, at the foot of the street on which they lived. During the week, Mr. Hardy had obtained the key from them on some pretext, but they had thought nothing of it. Now everything was clear.
"The boat must have arrived here during the week and he had it taken to the boathouse without telling us about it," said Frank.
"I guess he was afraid we wouldn't do much studying for the rest of the week if we knew it was there."
"I guess we wouldn't have, either."
When they reached the boathouse they could hardly contain themselves in their eagerness to see if the boat had indeed arrived. Frank inserted the key in the lock and opened the door. They stepped inside.
There, rocking gently in the waves, was a long, graceful craft, white with gilt trimmings, a motorboat that gave an immediate impression of strength and power without the sacrifice of graceful lines. There was a flag at the bow and at the stern; the fittings glistened; the seats were upholstered in leather, and across the bow was the name of the boat in raised letters: SLEUTH. The name had been chosen by the Hardy boys previous to the purchase of the craft and after much argument.
"She's a beauty!" breathed Frank in deep admiration.
"I'll say!"
"The smoothest looking boat on the bay!"
"And I'll bet it's the fastest."
"Oh, boy, if we'd only known this was here all week!"
Without further ado, the boys descended from the landing stage and got into the boat to inspect the craft more closely. Everything they saw only served to confirm their first impression that the Sleuth was without doubt the neatest, most compact and most beautiful motorboat ever launched. The fittings were bright and shining, the wheel responded to the lightest touch.
"How's the gas and oil?" asked Frank, settling into the steersman's seat.
"Full up. And look, Frank, even the license is here!"
"All right. Cast off."
Joe opened the boathouse doors, unhooked the chains that kept the craft secure, and then leaped into the Sleuth as the engine spluttered and roared. Frank threw in the clutch, the roar died away to a purr, and the boat backed swiftly and smoothly out into the bay.
"The engine runs like a watch!" reported Frank, in delight.
Once outside the boathouse he headed the craft out toward the open bay. It was soon apparent that the engine of the Sleuth was very powerful, for the boat leaped forward as Frank increased speed, and yet there was very little noise. The nose of the boat cut the water like a knife and the craft skimmed out into the bay like a swallow.
Both boys were almost inarticulate with delight. The sense of speed and freedom held them spellbound. Frank changed places with Joe and gave his brother a turn at the wheel. Joe was astonished at the immediate response that came to his lightest touch.
In anticipation of getting the boat both lads had taken lessons in running such a craft from Tony Prito and others who had motorboats and, as a consequence, Joe and Frank felt thoroughly at home with both the engine and the steering wheel.
They circled about and came down toward shore again. It was a sunny morning and two or three motorboats were spluttering and backfiring in their shelters near the shore. Out of one boathouse came a rakish black craft that the boys recognized instantly as the motorboat belonging to Tony Prito's father.
"There's Tony!" exclaimed Frank. "He always goes boating on Saturday mornings. Let's give him a race."
"His boat's supposed to be the fastest on the bay."
"I don't care whether it is or not. He'll have to go some to beat the Sleuth. We'll challenge him."
Although Tony had seen their boat he had not yet recognized the boys in it and when they drew alongside he gave a shout of surprise.
"Well, gee whiz!" he exclaimed. "Look who's here! I was wondering who owned the swell new tub. Is this the new boat?"
"This is she. And she's fast, boy—she's fast. Want to race?"
Tony laughed.
"I hate to show you up so soon. You won't like your new boat near so well if I beat you the first time you get into a race."
"You won't beat us. You've got a pretty speedy old boat there, all right, but you've met your match this time."
"Do you really think you can lick me?" asked Tony. "You know you haven't a chance. This is a real speed boat."
"This is a better one. Come on—we'll start from that buoy."
Frank pointed to a buoy that was riding the waves about a hundred yards away and the two boats sped toward it. They kept on even terms until they came abreast of the buoy and then Tony shouted:
"Now!"
At the same instant, the boats leaped forward. The engine of Tony's craft set up a deafening roar, but the Sleuth merely changed from a purr to a growl and sprang swiftly through the water.
Tony had the advantage in that he knew his boat well and he knew just how much power it would stand. Within half a minute he had established a substantial lead, while the Sleuth was surging along in his wake.
But Frank knew that the boat was more powerful than it seemed.
Gradually, he "let her out," and the Sleuth responded until at last he could see that they were gaining on the craft ahead. By this time Tony was tearing along at the highest speed of which his swift craft was capable, and the boat was almost rising out of the water with the force of its momentum.
Rapidly, the Sleuth overhauled the flying craft, swiftly it drew abreast, and the boys had a glimpse of Tony's astonished face as he glanced over the side at them.
The Sleuth roared on, rocking and swaying, with spray dashing over the bows. There was no doubt as to which was the swifter craft. Tony was being left behind.
When a gap of three or four hundred yards separated the two boats and when it was apparent that he had no hope of overhauling his rival, Tony lessened the speed of his craft as a signal that he had been beaten. Frank immediately throttled down the Sleuth and swung her around in a wide circle. Then, at a more reasonable speed, they went back to meet Tony.
Their chum was astonished beyond all measure.
"I thought you were just kidding when you said you'd race with me," he shouted, as they drew closer.
"No kidding about that race, was there?"
"I'll say there wasn't! I let my old boat out as fast as she'd go. I thought the engine was going to jump out, once or twice. I didn't think there was a motorboat in the bay could beat mine, but I guess that tub of yours has it beat. When did you get it?"
"This is the first time we've been out."
"Wish I could stick around and race with you again," said Tony regretfully. "But I have to go back to the boathouse. I promised my father I'd help him at the warehouse this morning."
"Tough luck," sympathized Frank. "We may see you this afternoon. But no more racing until the engine is worked in a bit better. It was foolish to let her out while she is so stiff."
"Where are you going now?"
"Oh, we'll just cruise around," said Frank. "I was thinking we might go up to Barmet village and back."
"That's a nice run. It'll take you about half an hour if you go easy. About five minutes if you let that speed demon out for all she's worth."
"We'll go easy," laughed Joe. "We don't want to ruin the engine on our first trip."
"Runs pretty smooth," approved Tony. "It'll stand quite a lot. Well, I must be going. Good-bye."
He turned the nose of his craft toward the boathouse and drew swiftly away. The Hardy boys set out in the opposite direction, surging through the water toward Barmet village.