Chapter III: A Handicap at the First Station

"We've got to pull up here, Jimmie!"

"Sure; and what time have ye, Jack?"

"Just eleven. We've been booming along for three hours today, besides the whole eight yesterday, and without a single breakdown, too," and Jack looked proudly at the little motor which he was bending over and petting.

"Thims the houses of Clinton we say away ahead there, thin?" asked Jimmie, as he shaded his eyes with a palm, and stared toward the south.

"Yes, on the Illinois shore; and across the way lies Clinton in Iowa. I used the marine glass which every boat carries, and there isn't a sign of either the _Wireless_ or the _Comfort_ ahead. That means, Jimmie, we're the first to arrive at the initial bag or station."

The Irish boy grinned as though tickled. "Sure I can understand why Herb and Josh are held back by a slow boat; but by the powers where can that speed boy be? By the way he wint off he might be bringing up in New Orleans just now," he remarked, humorously.

"If I gave a guess I'd say he was up in some creek, tinkering at that twenty horsepower engine of his that shakes the whole frame of his boat whenever he opens the throttle wide," Jack replied.

"Right ye are," declared Jimmie, nodding his head. "And by the toime we get to the journey's ind I belave on me sowl George and Buster will know the location of ivery creek along the river."

"Well," remarked the pilot of the boat, as he turned shoreward, "if a fellow is daft enough to sacrifice everything else for speed, on a long cruise like this, he must expect to put up with all sorts of trouble. But I'm sorry for Buster, though."

"Sure he can afford to lose twinty pounds, and not fale it," declared the Irish boy, sagely. "And so long as the provisions howld out, Buster won't kick too harrd."

When they had arrived at a certain point not far from the shore the engine was shut off.

"Now!" sang out Jack, "drop it! Quick, Jimmie!"

With a splash the anchor fell into the water, and presently the jaunty little motor boat was riding restlessly at the end of her cable; while the two boys started to get something ready to eat.

Jimmie was to act as cook most of the time, since the other inmate of the _Tramp_ had plenty of things to hold his attention in managing the engine, and figuring out the course.

First of all Jimmie placed on a firm foundation a neat little contraption made of brass, and which seemed to be a kerosene stove, capable of manufacturing gas. It was the pet of the skipper, and had served him many a time under conditions when a camp fire was out of the question, on account of pouring rain, or from some other reason.

This Juwel kerosene-burning stove was of German origin. It was primed with a little alcohol, and when the heat had thus been applied to the plate a few pumps started the oil to moving, and it was turned into blue flame gas, very powerful in its capacity for boiling water speedily.

When the stove was going it made a little crackling, hissing noise, but nothing to cause annoyance. And its convenience on a cruise of this sort outweighed any minor faults.

The other boats were equipped with other cooking appliances, the _Wireless_ having a battery of three lamps, and the _Comfort_ a genuine gasoline affair, of course of generous proportions as became so big a craft, on which a dinner for the crowd might have been prepared if necessary.

Jimmie heated some Boston baked beans left over from the preceding night's supper, and made a pot of coffee. A loaf of bread and some cheese afforded ample substantial, as Jimmie declared when he could eat no more.

Still there were no signs of either of the other boats above. They could see various river craft moving about, but though Jack used his glasses diligently up to two o'clock he had discovered nothing of the others.

"Say, this looks bad for a beginning," he observed, as three o'clock came, and he took the glasses again to sweep the upper river. "Already we have a start of four hours on both our rivals. Perhaps after all George may have to explore some of those cut-offs Nick dreads so much, in order to make up for time lost while tinkering with that blessed old engine of his, that breaks down once in so often."

He had hardly applied the glasses to his eyes than he gave an exclamation.

"I wager now that's the bully ould _Comfort_ splashing along in the middle of the river!" cried Jimmie, who had good eyes of his own and had been using them to some advantage meanwhile.

"Go up head, Jimmie," said Jack; "for that's just what it is. And as sure as you live I think I sight the rushing _Wireless_ away back there, booming along, and cutting through the water like a knife, while the broad bow of Herb's boat throws the spray flying with every dip! It's a race for second honors, that's what it is, Jimmie!"

"Whirra! and we're the spectators, so we are!" cried the delighted Irish lad, as he eagerly reached for the glasses and clapped them to his eyes. "Yis, ye're right, Jack, it's the speed boat all the same; and my sowl, how she's rushing things! By the powers, don't I hope the ould _Comfort_ draws in here ahead. Won't it make George feel down in the mouth to be last at the stake?"

"Oh! this is only a beginning," remarked Jack. "Nobody can tell what is going to happen before we bring up at New Orleans. Depend on it, Jimmie, all of us will know a heap more by then than we do now."

"Herb sees us," observed Jimmie. "Josh is wavin' a flag. And the boat heads this way, too, makin' better time than I iver saw her do. Hurrah for thim! Look at the coffin nail gainin'; but I do believe the tub will win out afther all, I do that."

And so it proved; for, although George evidently risked considerable, and shoved on every horsepower his engine was rated at, he could not quite overtake the big clumsy craft he had affected to despise; so that the _Comfort_ was alongside before the speed boat was more than within hailing distance.

Jack himself timed the coming of each craft, as was the duty of the one first at a station. Thus he knew just what a handicap the other boats labored under as the result of the initial run.

It was already late in the day, and as they were prohibited from running after the hour of four, a start was out of the question until another morning.

Accordingly the three craft made preparations for stopping over another night. A place was found where they could go ashore and camp, though meaning to sleep aboard their several boats; a necessity that caused poor Nick many a groan.

"Why, fellows," he grunted, rubbing himself in various places, "I'm just covered with bruises after one night of it. No room to turn without the bally old boat heaving and rolling. I give you my word there were lots of times I really made up my mind the blessed thing wanted to turn us both out into the creek. And would you believe it, I haven't yet been able to find those bully water wings anywhere. Seen anything of 'em, boys? Oh! I hope you have, because half the fun will be lost to me if I've gone and left my wings behind."

But no one remembered seeing the articles in question after the last time the owner had been holding them up for admiration, and which was on the Saturday before the start.

"So, you did pass the night in a creek, then?" asked Jack.

"That's what we did," admitted George, with a shrug of his shoulders. "Engine began to give trouble before two o'clock, and as we were near the shore we found a convenient creek, where we pushed in; and I've been working on that motor pretty much all the time since."

"We saw you both go past this morning," remarked Nick. "But George wouldn't let me give a toot on my horn. All I did was to cook while he worked."

"And eat. Don't forget to mention that, please," grumbled the aforesaid George. "Why, fellows, if he keeps on the way he's started, I sure don't know how we'll ever get enough grub aboard to keep going. And besides, such cooking you never saw."

"Here, no complaining," declared Jack. "You knew what you were up against before you started. And Buster is a willing chap, even if he has his faults. I've got a man aboard who's in training to equal Buster's record before this trip ends," and he nodded his head toward Jimmie, who grinned and answered:

"Indade an' I begin to belave that same mesilf, fellers. I'm hungry all the time, so I be. It must be in the air. Jack himself is no slouch whin it comes to stowing away things."

"That's all right," laughed Josh, seeing a chance to get in one of his favorite digs at Nick; "but I can feel for poor old George. He's tucked in with a cemetery, that devours everything, and keeps yawning for more."

And so they talked as they made a fire and prepared supper for the crowd just as the sun hovered over the distant shore to the west. No one came to bother them, for the place was isolated. A railroad ran near by, and during the night they heard numerous trains passing along. But snugly tucked away in their respective boats--much too snugly, Nick believed--they found little cause for complaint.

Another dawn found them facing a proposition that offered new possibilities.

"Hey! it's raining!" shouted Josh, he being the first one in the little fleet to get outside that morning.

But Jack had known this for some time, since he had been awake and heard the patter of the falling drops on the taut canvas awning that covered the main part of the _Tramp_.

After a while the boats were allowed to come closer together, while the pilots conferred as to the program for the day.

There were one or two feeble protests against starting in the wet; but on putting it to a vote the decision was reached that they must go on.

"We're not made of sugar or salt," declared Jack; "and besides, haven't we anticipated just such weather by providing waterproof garments. Everybody get into their oilskins right away, and slap a real old sou'wester on their heads. We can afford to laugh at this poor little storm. Wait till we strike something worth while later on, and then duck."

"Yes," put in George, a little maliciously; "we've just got to be moving right along, fellows. Satan always finds mischief for idle hands to do. Buster is supposed to be the deck hand aboard this boat, and when he hasn't anything else to do his mind keeps wandering in the line of eating. Suppose we did get really cleaned out some fine day, am I bound to begin on him for chops?"

All this while they were busy dressing, and Nick made the narrow speed boat wabble fearfully with his movements as he drew on his oilskins.

"Oh! I tell you I'm just going to be a complete nervous wreck before we get done with this fool race," he complained when he had finally succeeded in donning the wide trousers, the legs of which persisted in sticking together.

"Get out and walk then," said George, promptly.

"I would if the walking was good," replied Nick; "but it's wet both above and below; and besides I want to give another look around for my precious white wings."

At eight o'clock another start was made. As before, the fleet boat shot ahead, with the _Tramp_ a good second, and the wallowing _Comfort_ in the rear, Herb and Josh in no way disconcerted because of the poor beginning. History had a way of repeating itself; and they believed that the accident to George's cranky engine was only a specimen of many other troubles and tribulations that would be apt to befall the ambitious pilot during the progress of the race.

But hardly had the _Wireless_ gone two hundred yards before there was a tremendous splash heard.

"Arrah now!" burst out Jimmie, who had happened to be looking at the time, "it's happened just as I knowed it would!"

"What is it?" asked Jack, bobbing up from the engine, which had been taking all of his attention.

"He falled overboard, so he did, just like a sack of corn!" continued Jimmie.

"Who did----oh! look at all the splashing back of the _Wireless_! Why it's Buster and he's holding on to a rope or something! Stop the boat, George; stop her!"