y for your idea."

Seemingly as full of mischief as ever, Eph Somers pressed a silver
coin into Jack Benson's hand.

But Jack, plainly impatient with such trifling, frowned slightly
as he turned and pitched the quarter forward.

"This isn't a twenty-five-cent proposition," Benson remarked.
"In fact, all the money on earth won't save us this time!"

CHAPTER XI

A QUARTER'S WORTH OF HOPE

"Until some one can think of something else, I'm going to keep
on trying the hopeless thing and endeavoring to make this old,
thin plate work," declared Hal Hastings, who was still bent over
the motor, studying it intently.

Benson had turned back to examine the work, after tossing the
coin away, but just as suddenly he glanced forward again.

At the extreme forward end of the engine room of the "Dodger"
was another bench. Here were a vise and other heavier tools.
On the floor under this bench were stowed many mechanical odds
and ends---pieces of wood, coils of rope, even a bundle of tent-pegs,
though nothing was visible of a metallic nature.

"You fellows keep at work," Jack Benson shot back suddenly over
his shoulder.

"Where you going?" demanded Eph.

"Forward."

That much was evident, but Jack was now down on hands and knees
carefully yet feverishly moving the wooden articles, cordage and
such things from under the forward bench.

"What are you doing?" called Eph. "Go ahead with your work---there's
no time to be lost," replied Lieutenant Jack.

"Hold this a moment, Eph," Hal Hastings requested, and Somers's
attention was forced back to the motor.

Sc-cratch! Flare! Jack Benson was using matches under that work
bench, now that be had made some clear space there.

"I wonder if Jack has gone clean daffy?" half chuckled Somers under
his breath.

"What are you talking about?" Hastings demanded.

"Jack's lighting matches up forward, under the other bench."

"What if he is?"

"Maybe he thinks he can explode some gasoline and blow us to the
surface."

"Quit your nonsense," returned Hal almost angrily, "and help me
with this job."

"I'm waiting to see if Jack is going to let out a maniac yell,"
grimaced Eph Somers.

"Quit your-----"

"Wow! Whoop!" uttered young Benson excitedly. "Never tell me
again that it's unlucky to throw money away! Whoop!"

"What did I tell you?" demanded Eph. "If Jack's making a noise
like that," retorted Hastings, as be straightened up and wheeled
about, "he's got a