pley testily.

"But you can afford it," said Bert. "You can get more money from
your father."

"I suppose so," Ripley assented, not caring to repeat his interview
with his father. "Anyway, I'm glad that Dick Prescott and the
rest of his crowd got fooled as badly as I did. And they can't
get any more money this summer."

"I guess they must have gotten some already," Bert rejoined.
"Didn't you hear the news about that canoe?"

"What news?" asked Fred quickly.

"Why, they've engaged Hiram Driggs to put the canoe in good order."

"Where did they get the money?" asked Fred, his brow darkening.

"I don't know," was Bert's rejoinder. "But they must be able
to raise money all right, for Driggs has the canoe down at his
yard, and he has promised it to them in a few days."

This news came like a slap in the face to the lawyer's son. He
remained with Bert for another hour, but all the time Fred brooded
over the fact that Dick & Co. were to have their canoe after all.

"At that, I don't know that they will have their canoe," Fred
remarked darkly to himself as he started homeward.

Shortly after midnight Fred Ripley sneaked away from his home,
turning his face in the direction of Hiram Driggs' boatyard.

CHAPTER IV

HIRAM PRIES A SECRET LOOSE

When he left home Fred Ripley had no clearly defined idea as to
what he meant to do.

However, he had in one pocket a keen-bladed pocket knife. Well
wrapped in paper a short but sharp-edged chisel rested in one
of the side pockets of his coat.

At the outset his only purpose was to do irreparable mischief
to the war canoe. The means of accomplishing that purpose he
must decide upon when he reached the boatyard.

How dark it was, and how hot! Late as the hour was the baking
heat of the day did not seem to have left the ground. Fred walked
along rapidly, fanning his perspiring face with his straw hat.

"They'll have their war canoe in the water in a few days, will
they?" the lawyer's son muttered. "Humph!"

Through the side streets he went, keeping a sharp lookout. Conscious
of the fact that he was bent on an unworthy errand, Fred did not
care to be recognized abroad at this unusual hour.

In a few minutes he had reached the boatyard. This was surrounded
by a high board fence, and the gate was locked.

"It won't do to get over the fence," young Ripley decided. "I
might be seen and watched. But I know a way."

At one corner of the yard the fence r