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CHAPTER VII

Two Fishermen


UNCERTAIN as to how their craft would behave when put to such a test as was impending, the young rocket riders were a bit cautious, at first, in the matter of speed. Harry, who was at the mixing valve, Bert, who was looking after the ignition, and Dick, at the wheel inside the cabin, severally noted the functioning of their particular departments, if so they could be designated.

Dick had been at the wheel in the cockpit when Don Mantella issued his impromptu challenge, but Harry quickly called his chum inside to the wheel there.

“If we go fast we'll kick up quite a sea,” the tall lad had said, “and you may get wet out there, Dick.”

“I don't mind getting wet if we can beat this bird,” was the stout lad's retort.

“We'll beat him,” Harry quietly promised.

But when Bert noted the sudden increase in speed on the part of La Senora he shook his head dubiously.

“That fellow sure will run rings around us, Harry,” Bert predicted.

“Wait until we warm up,” begged Harry.

He opened the throttle a little farther, thus allowing more of the chemical mixture to be blown into the mixing chamber. There the various ingredients formed a powerful gas which the electric spark, coming at first from a storage battery and then, when the motor was going, from a magneto, set off the charges in the after rocket tubes.

Had it not been for a muffler, similar to those used on automobiles, the explosions of chemical gas in the tubes would have been deafening. But kept under control, and with little resultant loss of power, the rockets sent out their power in comparative quiet and forced the Hippocampus ahead at ever-increasing speed.

“Keep a straight course, Dick,” Harry advised. “You've got deep water all the way.”

“We sure don't want to hit a coral reef at this rate,” declared Bert. “We must be doing thirty-five, easily.”

“Forty,” announced Harry, glancing at the speed gauge which was an ingenious adaptation of the new form of ship log. “And we're going to do better!”

“Some boat!” murmured Dick, grasping the wheel firmly.

The other boat was ahead now, the sun glistening on her shiny rails and her polished decks. There was evidently a pleasure party aboard, for several men and women, in dazzling white garments, were now on deck watching the race. The two craft were close enough so that those aboard each were easily visible to the others.

“I'm afraid he's going to leave us behind, Harry,” said Bert when a mile or more had been covered, with' La Senora gradually increasing her lead.

“Wait,” was the answer. “The hotter our accumulation chamber gets, the more power there is to the gas in the rocket tubes. In about another minute you'll see something.”

And Harry's chums were not the only ones to see “something.” Don Mantella, with a mocking farewell gesture in the direction of the Hippocampus, was about to swing his wheel over to cut across the bows of the rocket craft, in his boasted attempt to “run circles” around her, when Harry gave a sharp signal on the compressed air whistle. It warned the other craft to keep on her course and not to attempt to do any fancy stunts.

For a moment it seemed that the skipper of La Senora would pay no heed to the signal whistle. But in. another moment he changed his mind. For Harry suddenly opened the throttle full and as now the mixing valve, the mingling retort, and the accumulation chamber were all well warmed, there was such a sudden burst of speed on the part of the rocket craft as almost to tip the crew off their Individual feet.

Seemingly about to leap clear of the water, the Hippocampus shot up until she was on even terms with the other craft. Then, amid the glum silence of the gay party on the magnificent boat, the rocket riders forged ahead and opened a clean stretch of water between themselves and their supercilious rivals.

“Come on, senor!” taunted Dick, calling out of an open window near the wheel. “Run a ring around us now!”

“More speed! More speed!” cried Don Mantella fervently, and he swung the engine-room telegraph lever around frantically. La Senora did manage to gain a little, but not much, and as the rocket craft surged on ahead the boast of the proud Spaniard was reversed and it was the Hippocampus that swung across the bow of her rival. She did not exactly run a ring around her, which feat would not quite have been possible and would, in addition, have been risky. But the fine motor yacht was left far to the rear by the more speedy but less artistic rocket craft.

“That'll be something to write home about,” chuckled Bert as Harry cut down the speed a little and swung off to the east, for there was no need to strain the motor.

“I thought we'd do it,” quietly said the tall lad at the mixing valve.

“I never knew we could go so fast!” murmured Dick. “I'll bet Don Mantella would like to chew on a nail.”

“He's welcome to for all of me,” remarked Bert. “And now we can take it easy for a while. It's quite a strain—a race like that— even if it was short.”

“That's right,” Harry agreed. “Well, we've proved our boat. I can see where we can still make a few improvements, but she does very well.”

“Too bad Mr. Sarnof can't have a look at what his rocket motor can do,” spoke Bert.

“He'd be proud of his invention,” declared Dick.

As the boys had no special objective, they cruised about in the blue and sunny waters of the Florida Straits. They tried their boat this way and that, finding her seaworthy in every respect. They had a distant view of La Senora making her way along at slower speed since the decisive race against her.

“Is there any particular key, kay, or cay you've got in mind for camping on, Beanpole?” asked Bert as they cruised along at moderate speed.

“No special one,” Harry answered. “We'll look for one with a lagoon if we can spot one. We'll be safe there in case of a storm.”

A lagoon is a sort of bay, almost enclosed by a ring of coral, but with an entrance for a boat. Inside the lagoon storms need not be feared, and the boys could easily anchor and wade or swim ashore to the adjacent cay, or island.

It was with this rather indefinite objective' in view that Harry and his chums were now cruising. It was getting toward noon, and they were beginning to think of lunch when Dick, who had gone up on the forward deck, called out something.

“What is it?” asked Harry, who was adjusting the rocket gas lever to operate automatically while Bert was at the wheel.

“Two fishermen!” answered Dick.

“Well, what of it?” asked Harry. “Two fishermen are nothing to make a fuss over.”

“Come and see who they are!” suggested Dick in a voice which indicated more than the mere words.

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Framed