The _Vagabond_ was a good twelve miles away from Cohasset, and that meant a full hour and a half’s run, for Nelson had slowed down the boat’s speed to eight miles. He began to wish that he hadn’t gone so far. To be sure, the _Vagabond_ was the stanchest sort of a craft, and the weather was of the calmest; also there were no dangerous rocks nor bars between them and the harbor. But it was awfully dark and rather cold, and there was a whole lot of water around them. For a moment he wished that he had kept company with the racers until the Cape was reached; then he could have put in to Provincetown. But after a moment, when the odor of Tom’s coffee stole up on deck, the qualm of uneasiness passed. He took his place beside Bob, who, at the wheel, was staring intently ahead into the night. “Can’t see much, can you?” asked Bob. “I suppose most of the sailing craft carry lights, don’t they?” “All of them,” answered Nelson. “Keep on; you’re all right. There isn’t a rock between here and Minot’s Ledge. Let me take the wheel awhile; you go down and get something warmer on.” “I guess I will; I hadn’t realized that it was so cold.” Bob had just reached the lowest step, when he turned and thrust his head out again with a shout to Nelson. But Nelson had already called Dan to take the wheel, and was hurrying down. The engine had stopped! CHAPTER VII—IN WHICH NELSON DISCOVERS A STOWAWAY For a moment the silence was startling. For an hour and a half the hum and whir of the busy engine had filled the boat until it had long since grown unnoticeable. And now to have it suddenly cease without warning seemed a veritable catastrophe. The silence which ensued while Nelson went anxiously over the motor seemed unnatural and fraught with disaster. On the stove, Tom’s viands stood forgotten while the _chef_ watched with worried countenance the captain’s efforts to locate the trouble. Bob stood silently by and Dan peered down from the hatch, for there was no use in holding the wheel. The _Vagabond_ drifted silently, rolling a little from side to side as the swells took her. Finally Nelson stood up and scowled impatiently. “I can’t see where the trouble is. The spark’s all right, she doesn’t seem hot, and the gasoline cock is wide open. The only thing——” He seized a wrench and began to unfasten the vaporizer. “This thing may possibly be stopped up,” he muttered. He cleaned it out, turned the gasoline on again, and whistled. “What is it?” asked Bob. “She doesn’t get any gasoline,” said Nelson thoughtfully. “It surely hasn’t been shut off at the tank! No one has been trying any fool tricks like that, have they?” There was a prompt and sober denial from each. “Then,” said Nelson, “either the supply pipe is stopped up or the tank’s empty, and I don’t see how either is possible. Bring that light, Bob, will you? I’m going to measure.” A moment later, when the measuring stick had been pulled out of the tank for the third time, perfectly dry, Nelson gave in.