The hunter's wife insisted that Tom remain to
dinner, and as he had made up his mind he would have to devote two
days instead of one to the trip to his house, he consented.
The fog lifted that afternoon, and Tom, rejoicing in the sunlight,
which drove away the storm clouds, speeded up the ARROW until she
was skimming over the lake like a shaft from a bow.
"This is something like," he exclaimed. "I'll soon be at home,
find everything all right and telephone to dad. Then I'll sleep
in my own room and start back in the morning."
When Tom was within a few miles of his own boathouse he heard
behind him the "put-put" of a motor craft. Turning, he saw the
RED STREAK fairly flying along at some distance from him.
"Andy certainly is getting the speed out of her now," he remarked.
"He'd beat me if we were racing, but the trouble with his boat and
engine is that he can't always depend on it. I guess he doesn't
understand how to run it. I wonder if he'll offer to race now?"
But the red-haired owner of the auto boat evidently did not intend
to offer Tom a race. The RED STREAK went on down the lake,
passing the ARROW about half a mile away. Then the young inventor
saw that Andy had two other lads in the boat with him.
"Sam Snedecker and Pete Bailey, I guess," he murmured.
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