Waverly bank I'd try to let
the authorities know. But they must be pretty hard cases, and I'd go
mighty slow about trying to grab such customers myself. I'm not hired
to play the part of detective or sheriff. All that stuff I leave to
the proper officials."

"How do we stand on this second leg, Jack?" asked George.

"I've just been figuring it up," replied the other, referring to his
notebook. "It seems that the speed boat made the run in just ten hours
of actual work. We did the same in fourteen hours, twelve minutes; and
the steady old _Comfort_ in eighteen hours, seven minutes. That's as
near correct as it could be figured."

George beamed with gratification.

"Shake, partner," he said, thrusting out a hand to Nick, who looked at
him suspiciously, then examined his hand, and finally gingerly allowed
the other to take hold of a couple of his pudgy fingers.

"You see, we've more than wiped out our first day's loss, and have a
nice little balance in the bargain," George went on.

"Yes," laughed Jack, "and a balance is a handy thing to have, whether
in a bank or in a record of days' runs during a long race. I
congratulate you, fellows, and hope you may duplicate the performance."

Herb and Josh seemed in no wise cast down over the poor showing their
boat had made up to date.

"Just you wait," observed the former, positively. "Perhaps we've got a
card or two up our sleeves. We don't tell _everything_ we know, do we,
Josh? And long ago I learned that the race is not always to the swift."

"Yes," added his comrade in misfortune, "and it's a long lane that has
no turning. Anyhow, we didn't make any big brag about what we were
goin' to do when we set out; so you see nobody's going to be
disappointed even if we get left. I'm enjoyin' every minute of the
time; and that's more'n some fellers could say," with a meaning look in
the direction of poor fat Nick, who winced, and shook his fist at the
speaker.

It was all of nine o'clock when Jack got the three boats in line, and
had Jimmie toot his conch shell horn as a starting signal.

History repeated itself again that day.

The speed boat shot off like a greyhound released from bonds, the
_Comfort_ wheezed along amiably in the rear, and Jack's craft took up a
midway course. Thus for two hours and more the crew of the _Tramp_
could watch both competing craft. Then the narrow beamed _Wireless_
seemed to melt out of sight in the dim distance, nor could Jim