CHAPTER XIV

THE ARROW DISAPPEARS

Paying no heed to the occupants of the bully’s boat, who, by reason of their daring, had been responsible for his accident that might have resulted seriously, Tom was soon at his dock.  He had it conveniently arranged for hoisting craft out of the water to repair them, and in a few minutes the stern of the arrow was elevated so that he could get at the rudder.

“Well, it’s not as bad as I thought,” he remarked when, with critical eye, he had noted the damage done.  “I can fix it in about an hour if Garret helps me.”

Going up to the house to get some tools and to tell the engineer that he had returned, Tom looked out over the lake and saw Andy’s boat moving slowly off.

“They’ve got her fixed up in some kind of shape,” he murmured.  “It’s a shame for a chump like Andy to have a good boat like that.  He’ll spoil it in one season.  He’s getting altogether too reckless.  First thing he knows, he and I will have a clash and I’ll pay back some of the old scores.”

Mr. Jackson was much surprised to see the young inventor home again so soon, as was also Mrs. Baggert.  Tom explained what had happened, and he and the engineer went to work repairing the damage done by the red streak.  As the owner of the arrow had anticipated, the work did not take long, and, shortly before dinner time, the boat was ready to resume the interrupted trip to Sandport.

“Better stay and have lunch,” urged Mrs. Baggert.  “You can hardly get to the hotel by night, anyhow, and maybe it would be better not to start until to-morrow.”

“No, I must get back to-night or dad would be worried,” declared Tom.  “I’ve been gone longer now than I calculated on.  But I will have dinner here, and, if necessary, I can do the last half of the trip after dark.  I know the way now and I have a compass and a good searchlight.”

The arrow was let down into the water again and tied outside the boathouse ready for a quick start.  The dinner Mrs. Baggert provided was so good that Tom lingered over it longer than he meant to, and he asked for a second apple dumpling with hard sauce on.  So it was with a very comfortable feeling indeed and with an almost forgiving spirit toward Andy Foger that our hero started down the path to the lake.

“Now for a quick run to Sandport,” he said aloud.  “I hope I shan’t see any more of those men and that dad hasn’t been bothered by them.  His suspicions about the house weren’t altogether unfounded, for I did see the tramp and some one else sneaking around, but I don’t believe they’ll come back now.”

Tom swung around the path that led to the dock.  As he came in sight of the water, he stared as if he could not believe what he saw, or, rather, what he did not see.  For there was no craft tied to the string-piece, where he had fastened his motor-boat.  He looked again, rubbed his eyes to make sure and then cried out: