"If you keep on changing money for strangers you won't have much left out of those rewards," declared Phil Cohen, a diminutive, black-haired Jewish boy who was one of their friends. He was referring to the money the Hardy boys had received in rewards for their work in the Tower Mansion case and for helping run down the smugglers. "Oh, I guess we still have a few dollars," replied Frank smilingly. "We have enough in the bank to buy a motorboat with, anyway." "What's that?" asked Chet quickly. "Are you getting a motorboat?" The Hardy boys nodded. Their chums were immediately interested. "Put me down for one of the first passengers," shouted "Biff" Hooper, a tall, broad-shouldered boy who had just pushed his way through the circle. "We're thinking of getting one like Tony Prito's," said Joe. "I wish it was mine!" exclaimed Tony. His father, one of the most respected citizens in the Italian colony of Bayport, owned a speedy motorboat which had proved of great service to the Hardy boys in their conflict with the smugglers of Barmet Bay. "But if you're getting a boat at all you can't do any better than get one just like it." "Dad told us last night we could get one as long as we stayed in the bay and along the coast with it. He was afraid we might get ambitious and try crossing the Atlantic." "Well," remarked Jerry Gilroy, "I see where our summer baseball league is shot to pieces now." "Why?" "You'll be out in that boat every minute of your spare time. It was bad enough when you had the motorcycles. You were both always roaming around the country on them, but now we'll never be able to find you at all. There goes the best pitcher and shortstop of my team together." Jerry looked very glum as he said this, for he was an ardent ball fan and he had been much in the forefront in organizing a league for the summer months. Frank Hardy was one of the best pitchers in the school, and Joe could cover short in a manner that was the envy of his companions, but in spite of their natural ability for the game, the Hardy boys had always shown a preference for outings instead of baseball. "I'd rather go out for a whole day on a motorcycle or in a motorboat than play a dozen ball games," said Frank. This was rank heresy to Jerry, who could not bear any reflections on his beloved game. "Gosh, I don't know what's to become of you two! Can't I count on you for any games at all?" "Sure you can," promised Frank. "We're not going to _live_ in the motorboat." "If you go fooling around Barmet Reefs on a stormy day in the old tub you'll _die_ in it, though," snickered Chet. "That'll be about enough from you," warned Frank, giving him a friendly dig in the ribs. Then, turning to Jerry, he went on: "We'll play on your team, but we won't spend all our time outside of meal-hours in practising." "Well, I suppose I should be satisfied. We can't have everything. But I'd imagine you'd _like_ to practise."