had been boring and depositing sawdust,
and Rob, by industriously blowing at the accumulation, presently caused
it to burst into flame.

"There I've done it," he exclaimed triumphantly, arising with a flushed
face from his labors.

"Done what?" inquired young Crawford interestedly.

"Made fire in the Indian way," replied Rob triumphantly.

"I thought they made it by rubbing two sticks together."

"Only book Indians do that," replied Rob, "I'll tell you it took me a
time to get the hang of it, but I've got it now."

"It's quite a stunt, all right," commented the corporal admiringly.

"You bet, and it's useful, too," replied Rob. "I'll put the bow and
drill in my pocket, and then any time we get stuck for matches we'll
have no trouble in making a signal smoke or lighting cooking fires."

"Say, I've got some news for you," went on young Crawford, "did you
know that Sam Redding has entered that freak motor boat he's been
building in the yacht club regatta? He's out for the club trophy."

"No, is he, though?" exclaimed Rob, keenly interested. "Then the crew
and skipper of the Flying Fish will have to look alive. I know that
Sam's father helped him out with that boat and put a lot of new
wrinkles in it. I didn't think, though, he'd have it ready in time for
the races."

The boys referred to the coming motor-boat races which were to take
place shortly on the inlet at Hampton. Like most of the other lads in
the seashore town, Merritt and Rob had a lot of experience on the water
and some time before had built a speedy motor boat from knock-down
frames. The Flying Fish, as they called her, was entered for the main
event referred to, the prize for which was a silver cup, donated by the
merchants of the town. There were several other entries in the race,
but Rob and his crew, consisting of Merritt and Tubby Hopkins,
confidently expected the Flying Fish to easily lead them all.

"I wonder if the Sam Redding can show her stern to the Flying Fish?"
mused Rob. "I'd like to lake a good look at her."

"Let's go down to Redding's boat yard," suggested Merritt; "she's lying
there on the ways. I don't suppose any one would object to our sizing
her up."

Rob hailed the suggestion as a good one.

"We can call in for Tubby on the way," he said, as he darted into the
house after his hat.

The boys dropped in at Tubby's house on their way to the water-front,
and received from the stout youth some additional details reg