“Say, I’m not a motorboat expert,” declared Dick. “All I can do is to steer one.” “I guess that’s right,” agreed Tom with a laugh. “It’s my fault for not looking there first. I must have jarred that wire loose when I came in last night. I hit the dock harder than I meant to. But I’ll soon have it fixed.” With a screw driver he presently had the loose wire back in place on the switch connection. Then, with a single turn of the flywheel, the _Tag_ was in operation, and Tom steered out into Pine river, on which was located the village of Briartown, where our hero lived. “She’s running fine now,” commented Dick, who, at a nod from Tom, took the wheel. “Yes, as slick as you’d want her. She’s making good time, too,” and Tom glanced over toward shore, watching the trees seemingly slip past. “Hey, Tom, wait up, will you?” This came as a hail from the shore, and, following it, Tom and Dick saw a lad running along the river bank, waving his hand at them. “Wait!” he cried. “It’s Dent Wilcox,” said Dick Jones. “Yes, and he’s running--that’s the strange part of it,” commented Tom. “I wonder how he ever got out of his lazy streak long enough to get up that much speed.” “It _is_ a question,” agreed Dick, for Dent Wilcox was known as the laziest lad in Briartown. “Probably he wants a ride badly enough to chase after you,” added Tom’s chum. Once more came the hail: “Hey, Tom, give me a ride; will you?” “What for?” called back our hero. “I’ve got to go down to Millford for a man. I’ve got a job,” answered Dent. “Then you’d better walk,” answered Tom. “It’s good exercise for you.” “Aw, say, stop and take me aboard,” begged Dent. “Not much!” shouted Tom. “I’m not going to take any chances on stopping this engine now, just when it’s going good. You walk!” and as Dick steered the boat out from shore Tom opened wider his gasolene throttle to increase the speed of the boat, which he had checked when Dent hailed him. “Aw, say, you’re mean!” charged the lazy lad as the craft got farther and farther from shore. “You wait; I’ll get square with you yet!” “Think he will?” asked Dick, glancing anxiously at his chum. “Of course not. In the first place he won’t dare, and in the second he’s not smart enough to think up something to do to me, and if he is, he’s too lazy to carry it out after he’s planned it. Dent can’t worry me.” The two chums kept on down the river toward the main part of the town, for Tom’s home was on the outskirts. “I want to get a new set of batteries,” explained the owner of the _Tag_. “I always carry two sets so I can run on one even if some of them give out, and one set I’ve got now is running pretty low. This motor won’t start on the magneto, for some reason, so I have to start on the batteries and then switch over.” They soon reached the town, and Tom tied his craft at a public dock. Having purchased the batteries, and some other things he needed, he went to the post office.