“Oh, an old one.  I’m going to paint them, too, so in case the water leaks in or the gasoline leaks out the wood won’t be affected.  A gasoline tank should vibrate as little as possible, if you don’t want it to leak.  I guess I’ll paint the whole interior of this compartment white, then I can see away into the far corners of it.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” commented Mr. Swift.

It was four days after his purchase of the boat before Tom was ready to make a long trip in it.  Up to that time he had gone on short spins not far from the dock, in order to test the engine adjustment.  The lad found it was working very well, but he decided with a new kind of spark plugs for the two cylinders that he could get more speed out of it.  Finally the forward compartment was painted and a general overhauling given the hull and Tom was ready to put, his boat to a good test.

“Come on, Ned,” he said to his chum early one evening after Mr. Swift had said he was too tired to go out on a trial run.  “We’ll see what the arrow will do now.”

From the time Tom started up the motor it was evident that the boat was going through the water at a rapid rate.  For a mile or more the two lads speeded along, enjoying it hugely.  Then Ned exclaimed: 

“Something’s coming behind us.”

Tom turned his head and looked.  Then he called out: 

“It’s Mr. Hastings in his new Carlopa.  I wonder if he wants a race?”

“Guess he’d have it all his own way,” suggested Ned.

“Oh, I don’t know.  I can get a little more speed out of my boat.”

Tom waited until the former owner of the arrow was up to him.

“Want a race?” asked Mr. Hastings good-naturedly.

“Sure!” agreed Tom, and he shoved the timer ahead to produce quicker explosions.

The arrow seemed to leap forward and for a moment was ahead of the Carlopa, but with a motion of his hand to the spark lever Mr. Hastings also increased his speed.  For a moment the two boats were on even terms and then the larger and newer one forged ahead.  Tom had expected it’, but he was a little disappointed.

“That’s doing first rate,” complimented Mr. Hastings as he passed them.  “Better than I was ever able to make her do even when she was new, Tom.”

This made the present owner of the arrow feel somewhat consoled.  He and Ned ran on for a few miles, the Carlopa in the meanwhile disappearing from view around a bend.  Then Tom and his chum turned around and made for the Swift dock.

“She certainly is a dandy!” declared Ned.  “I wish I had one like it.”

“Oh, I intend that you shall have plenty of rides in this,” went on his friend.  “When you get your vacation, you and dad and I are going on a tour,” and he explained his plan, which, it is needless to say, met with Ned’s hearty approval.

Just before going to bed, some hours later, Tom decided to go down to the dock to make sure he had shut off the gasoline cock leading from the tank of his boat to the motor.  It was a calm, early summer night, with a new moon giving a little light, and the lad went down to the lake in his slippers.  As he neared the boathouse he heard a noise.