aboard a twenty-five-foot boat at anchor
in the midst of a small fleet of sail and gasoline craft. The rumble of
a motor followed almost instantly, was silenced momentarily while the
skiff was being made fast to the mooring, broke out again as the larger
boat selected a serpentine path through the circumjacent vessels and
slipped up to the dock.

Before it had lost way, Iff and Staff were aboard. Instantly, Bascom
snapped the switch shut and the motor started again on the spark.

"Straight out," he instructed Spelvin at the wheel, "till you round that
white moorin'-dolphin. Then I'll take her." ...

Not long afterward he gave up pottering round the engine and went
forward, relieving Spelvin. "You go back and keep your eye on that
engyne," he ordered; "she's workin' like a sewin'-machine, but she wants
watchin'. I'll tell you when to give her the spark. Meanwhile you
might 's well dig them lights out of the port locker and set 'em out."

"No," Iff put in. "We want no lights."

"Gov'mint regulations," said Bascom stubbornly. "Must carry lights."

"Five dollars?" Iff argued persuasively.

"Agin the law," growled Bascom. "But--I dunno--they ain't anybody likely
to be out this time o' night. Cross my palm."

And Staff again disbursed.

The white mooring-buoy swam past and the little vessel heeled as Bascom
swung her sharply to the southwards.

"Now," he told Spelvin, "advance that spark all you've a mind to."

There was a click from the engine-pit and the steady rumble of the
exhaust ran suddenly into a prolonged whining drone. The boat jumped as
if jerked forward by some gigantic, invisible hand. Beneath the bows the
water parted with a crisp sound like tearing paper. Long ripples widened
away from the sides, like ribs of a huge fan. A glassy hillock of water
sprang up mysteriously astern, pursuing them like an avenging Nemesis,
yet never quite catching up.

The sense of irresistible speed was tremendous, as stimulating as
electricity; this in spite of the fact that the boat was at best making
about half the speed at which the motor-car had plunged along the
country roads: an effect in part due to the spacious illusion of moonlit
distances upon the water.

Staff held his cap with one hand, drinking in the keen salt air with a
feeling of strange exultation. Iff crept forward and tarried for a time
talking to the boatbuilder.

The boat shaved a nun-buoy outside Barmouth Point so closely that Staff
could almos