aton is surely mightily worked up about it. And sending
us out to take a passenger off a steamer bound for South America! Tom,
do you s'pose that criminals are----"

"Hank," broke in the young skipper, half-severely, "there's something
squeaking on one of the motors. For goodness' sake don't let us break
down on what we've been told is a life-and-death trip! Get below and
see what's wrong. Stand by to watch the performance of the motors."

Hank vanished, inwardly grumbling, for his curiosity was doing two
hours' work every minute.

Captain Tom, after measuring on the chart, had figured on meeting the
"Constant" in two hours and twenty minutes. Now, at every turn of the
twin shafts the young skipper's blood bounded with the desire to do
his full duty in arriving on time. Yet there was not wanting pleasure,
mixed with the anxiety. How good the fresh, salty air tasted, out here
on the broad sea, with the low coast-line already nearly out of sight!
Tom Halstead sniffed in breath after breath. His eyes danced as they
beheld the spraying of white water cut and turned up by the boat's
fast prow. Oh, it was great to be out here on the deep, one hand
guiding the course of one of the nimblest yachts afloat!

Joe, as he came forward, felt this same wild exhilaration. Quiet,
dutiful and law-abiding as both these Motor Boat Club boys were, there
must have been much of the old Norseman Viking blood in their veins,
for this swift dash over the rolling swell of the ocean was like a
tonic to them both.

"Say, isn't it all grand?" demanded Joe, his cheeks glowing, as he
paused on the bridge deck, taking in great whiffs of the purest air
supplied to man.

"Great!" admitted Skipper Tom, in a tone that was almost a cheer. Then
he asked, gravely:

"Any news?"

"Mr. Seaton knows we have started, and expresses his pleasure. I've
signaled the 'Constant,' and she's still keeping to the same course,
and will so continue."

"And the patient, Clodis?"

"Still alive, Tom; but the ship's surgeon offers no hope, and will be
glad to have us take him onto the 'Restless.'"

"It must be something terrible to make Mr. Seaton so anxious about
the man," observed Tom, thoughtfully.

"Yes," nodded Joe. Then: "Say, Tom, I've just struck an easy scheme
for connecting one of the armatures of the Morse register, aft, to a
buzzer in the engine room. Then if I happen to be in the engine room
when wireless messages are traveling through the air I shal