CHAPTER III.
BOY SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE "Hadn't we better put back and warn them ?" suggested Merritt rather anxiously, for he was alarmed by the confident manner in which the old seaman prophesied certain disaster to the hydroplane if the weather freshened.
"No; see, she's heading toward us.

I guess they want a race," cried Rob.

"We'll slow down a bit and let them catch up." In a few moments the hydroplane was alongside.

The yellow hood over her powerful engines glistened with the wet of the great bow-wave her speed had occasioned, and her powerful motor was exhausting with a roar like a battery of machine guns.
Crouched aft of the engine hood was Sam Redding, who held the wheel.
Jack Curtiss and Bill Bender were in the stern.

They sat tandem-wise in the narrow racing shell.
"Want a tow rope for that old stone dray of yours ?" jeered Jack Curtiss, as the speedy little racer ranged alongside.
He did not know that the Flying Fish was slowed down, and that although the hydroplane appeared to be capable of tremendous speed, she was not actually so very much faster than Rob's boat.
"Say, you fellows," warned Rob, making a trumpet of his hands, "the captain says it's coming on to blow before long.