and eagerly talking to the
man at the wheel.

For several minutes the race continued and then abruptly the Varmint II
shut off part of her power and speedily dropped behind.

"I told you what would happen," said Fred exultantly. "I would like to
run away from that boat in a race. There isn't a boat on the St.
Lawrence I would like better to beat."

"But you don't even know she is going to be on the St. Lawrence or in
that race," suggested John.

"That's right. That's right," said Fred dolefully. "There's always
somebody taking the joy out of life. You mark my words, that boat is
going to the St. Lawrence and we'll find her in the race when we leave
the stake."

"I hope so," said Grant. "It will be a great race if she's in it! But
honestly, Fred, if you knew a little more about steering a boat I think
you could win from her. How would it do for you to get somebody to
steer, the day of the race?"

"That's right," spoke up George quickly. "All the Black Growler needs
is a pilot."

"That--is--most--certainly true," said John slowly, winking at Grant as
he spoke.

"Huh," spoke up Fred. "It's a pity there isn't enough gray matter
somewhere in this crowd to spell me at the wheel. I have run all the
way from New York and I'm tired and yet there isn't a fellow here who
is able to steer this boat."

"Beg your pardon," said John. "Ill steer her with great gladness."

"I don't doubt your 'gladness,'" said Fred. "What I'm afraid of is your
ability. If it was Grant now steering and we struck a rock he would
never own up that that wasn't the very place he was steering for.
However, String, take hold here awhile and give me a rest."

"Where are we going to stop for dinner?" inquired George. "This mad
race has brought on an attack of hunger with me."

"That's all right," laughed Fred. "I think the only thing you can say
is that you are less hungry some times than others. We can stop
anywhere you want."

"Then I say we stop at Poughkeepsie," said Grant.

"Poughkeepsie will do for me all right," said John soberly.

A half-hour later the graceful little motor-boat was lying alongside a
dock at Poughkeepsie. Two of the boys had remained on board to guard
their possessions while two had gone to a restaurant to purchase a
luncheon with which they were to return to the boat.

John and George had volunteered their services for the latter purpose
and about fifteen minutes after their departure George was seen
returning to t