ing the craft along,
until she was in the "cradle," Ned held her there while Tom went
on shore to wind up the windlass that pulled the car, containing
the boat, up the incline.

"I'll give you a hand, as soon as I find she sets level," called
Ned, from his place in the boat.

"All right--don't worry. There are good gears on this windlass,
and she works easy," replied Tom.

In a short time the boat was out of the water, but, as Tom grimly
remarked, "the water was not out of her," for a stream poured from
the stuffing-box, through which the propeller shaft entered, and
water also ran out through the seams that had been opened by the
collision.

"Quite a smash, Tom," observed the boat repairer, when he had come
out to look over the Kilo. "How'd it happen?"

"Oh, Shallock Peters, with his big red boat, ran into us!" said
Ned, sharply.

"Ha, Peters; eh?" exclaimed the boatman. "That's the second craft
he's damaged inside a week with his speed mania. There's Bert
Johnson's little speeder over there," and he pointed to one over
which some men were working. "Had to put a whole new stern in her,
and what do you think that man Peters did?"

"What?" asked Tom, as he bent down to see how much damage his
craft had sustained.

"He wouldn't pay young Johnson a cent of money for the repairs,"
went on Mr. Houston, the boatman. "It was all Peters's fault,
too."

"Couldn't he make him pay?" asked Tom.

"Well, young Johnson asked for it--no more than right, too; but
Peters only sneered and laughed at him."

"Why didn't he sue?" asked Ned.

"Costs too much money to hire lawyers, I reckon. So he played you
the same trick; eh. Tom?"

"Pretty much, yes. But he won't get off so easily, I can tell you
that!" and there was a grim and determined look on the face of the
young inventor. "How long will it take to fix my boat, Mr.
Houston?"

"Nigh onto two weeks, Tom. I'm terrible rushed now."

Tom whistled ruefully.

"I could do it myself quicker, if I could get her back to my
shop," he said. "But she'd sink on the home trip. All right, do
the best you can, Mr. Houston."

"I will that, Tom."

The two chums walked out of the boat-repair place.

"What are you going to do, Tom?" asked Ned, as they strolled
along.

"Well, since we can't go motor boating, I guess I may as well go
back and see if that new supply of selenium has come. I do want to
get my photo telephone working, Ned."

"And that's all the outing you're going