HIRAM PRIES A SECRET LOOSE

When he left home Fred Ripley had no clearly defined idea as to what he meant to do.

However, he had in one pocket a keen-bladed pocket knife.  Well wrapped in paper a short but sharp-edged chisel rested in one of the side pockets of his coat.

At the outset his only purpose was to do irreparable mischief to the war canoe.  The means of accomplishing that purpose he must decide upon when he reached the boatyard.

How dark it was, and how hot!  Late as the hour was the baking heat of the day did not seem to have left the ground.  Fred walked along rapidly, fanning his perspiring face with his straw hat.

“They’ll have their war canoe in the water in a few days, will they?” the lawyer’s son muttered.  “Humph!”

Through the side streets he went, keeping a sharp lookout.  Conscious of the fact that he was bent on an unworthy errand, Fred did not care to be recognized abroad at this unusual hour.

In a few minutes he had reached the boatyard.  This was surrounded by a high board fence, and the gate was locked.

“It won’t do to get over the fence,” young Ripley decided.  “I might be seen and watched.  But I know a way.”

At one corner of the yard the fence ran almost, though not quite to the bank of the river.

Keeping well within the shadow of the fence, young Ripley hastened toward this point.

Here the amount of space was not sufficient for him to step around the end of the fence.  However, by grasping it on both sides Fred could swing himself around it and into the boatyard.  He did so with ease, then halted, peering cautiously about the yard.

“No one here,” the lawyer’s son decided at last.  “Whew!  I wouldn’t dare even to stumble over a tramp taking a nap here.  This is ticklish business, or it would be if I were caught here.  Now, where is the canoe?”

Early in the evening the moon had shone, but now the stars gave all the light there was to be had.  It was so close in the yard that Fred soon pulled off his jacket, carrying it or his arm.

Nowhere in the open yard was the canoe to be seen.  There were three semi-open sheds.  Into each of these in turn Ripley peered.  The canoe was nowhere to be found.

“I’m a fool to lose my sleep and take all the risk for this!” grunted the boy, halting and staring moodily about him in his great disappointment.  He now glared angrily at a large building, two-thirds boathouse and one-third boat-building shop.

“Hiram Driggs had the canoe taken in there!” muttered the boy.  “Just my luck.  I couldn’t get into that building unless I broke a window—–­and I don’t dare do that.”

Still determined to get at the canoe, if possible, Fred stole down to the inclined platform from which boats were carried to the water.  But the water-front entrance to the boathouse also proved to be locked.