New England -- Juvenile fiction; Sailing -- Juvenile fiction; Sea stories
For a moment the boys stared and then Steve leaned quickly over the
chart. "By Jiminy!" he muttered. "There's a way out there. Look,
fellows! See where it says 'Drawbridge'? Evidently you can get through
there into the Squam River, and the river takes you out into Ipswich
Bay! It's dollars to doughnuts that's where they took the _Follow Me_!"
Steve drew down the throttle and the cruiser lunged forward in response.
"We'll have a look, anyway," he said. "It was stupid of me not to have
noticed that on the chart, but it's hardly big enough to be seen."
Straight for the beach at the curve of the wide cove sped the
_Adventurer_, her nose set for the drawbridge that showed against the
blue sky. As they got closer an outlet showed clear, a narrow space
between the bridge masonry, with a strong current coming through from
the further side.
"Gee, it doesn't look very big," said Joe. "And how about head-room,
Steve?"
"Room enough," was the answer, as the _Adventurer_ slowed down. "They'll
raise the draw if we whistle, I suppose, but we don't need to."
"We'll scrape our funnel, as sure as shooting!" cried Perry as the
cruiser neared the bridge.
"We'll miss by two feet," answered Steve untroubledly.
They held their breaths and watched nervously as the shadow of the
bridge fell across the boat. Then, with the sound of the engine and
exhaust echoing loudly, the cruiser dug her nose into the out-running
tide and shot safely through to emerge into a narrow canal that
stretched straight ahead before them until it joined the river. They
breathed easier as the bridge was left behind. Once in the river it was
necessary to go cautiously and watch the channel buoys, for the chart
showed a depth of only four feet at low tide for the first mile and a
half. If they had not all been so absorbed in the fate and recovery of
the _Follow Me_ they would have enjoyed that journey down the Squam
River immensely, for it was a beautiful stream, quiet and tranquil in
the morning sunlight. Summer camps and cottages dotted the shores and
green hills hemmed it in. They had breakfast on the way, eating it for
the most part on deck. Now and then the _Adventurer_ paused while they
examined a motor-boat moored in some cove.
"There's one thing certain," said Steve. "Those folks couldn't have
brought the _Follow Me_ through here in the dark. If they did come
through that cut last night they anchored and waited for light. Keep a
watch for gasoline stations, fellows."
They found the first one at Annisquam, near where the yacht club pier
stuck out into the channel. Steve sidled the _Adventurer_ up to a
landing and, while Han held her with the hook, made inquiry of a
grizzled man in faded blue jumpers.
"We're looking for a motor-boat called the _Follow Me_," he explained.
"Have you seen her?"
The man shook his head. "What was she like?" he asked.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account