Rick turned, eyes wide. Suddenly he was no longer sleepy. "Did you hear
that? He said to stay away from the creek and the house, or our
crab-catching buddy would be turned into crab food!"

"He must have meant Orvil Harris!" Scotty exclaimed. "Rick, let's get
going!"

The boys started for the door at a run, but Rick stopped as his eye
caught the rocket. "Check the gas," he told Scotty. "Steve has a spare
can in the workshop. The runabout tank must be getting low. I'm going to
hide the rocket."

Scotty left at a run. Rick picked up the rocket and surveyed the scene.
Where could he hide it? He hurried into the kitchen and examined the
cabinets, then shook his head. Too obvious.

The refrigerator caught his eye. An apron at the bottom concealed the
motor unit. He knelt and pulled the apron free from its fastenings.
There was room next to the motor--unless the heat of the motor caused
the rocket fuel to burn. He opened the refrigerator and examined the
control, then turned it to "defrost." It wouldn't go on until they got
back. Hurriedly he put the small rocket in at a slight angle. It just
fit. He snapped the cover back in place and ran to join Scotty, who was
already in the boat.

"Gas okay," Scotty called. "Let's go."

Rick cast off and jumped aboard. Scotty started the motor and backed
into the stream, then turned sharply and headed toward the river.
Neither boy spoke. Their sleepiness was gone now, forgotten in their
fear for Orvil.

Scotty held the runabout wide open, at its top speed of nearly twenty
miles an hour. They sped across the Little Choptank River straight for
Swamp Creek, with no effort at concealment.

Rick saw a low, white boat some distance down the river and grabbed
Scotty's arm. "Isn't that Orvil's boat?"

Scotty looked for a long moment. "It looks like it. Let's go see."

They swung onto a new course, in pursuit of the white boat. It might not
be Orvil's, but it was like it. Both boys could now recognize the design
characteristic of boats built on the Chesapeake Bay. The boats were
known as "bay builts," and distinguished by their straight bows--almost
vertical to the water line--square sterns, and flaring sides. The design
was ideal for the shallow, choppy waters of the bay, and the boats could
take a heavy bay storm with greater comfort and safety than most
deep-water models.

As they came closer both boys looked for the boat's occupant, but there
was no one in sight. Worried, Scott