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MOTOR BOAT BOYS
ON THE ST. LAWRENCE
OR
Solving the Mystery of the Thousand Islands
By
LOUIS ARUNDEL Chicago
M. A. DONOHUE & CO.
COPYRIGHT 1913
BY M. A. DONOHUE & COMPANY
Made in U.S.A.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER I AFTER THE GAME
CHAPTER II CHUMS, TRIED AND TRUE
CHAPTER III A CHANCE CLEW
CHAPTER IV BLOCKING A SLY MOVE
CHAPTER V THE GUARDIAN OF THE FLEET
CHAPTER VI THE "FLASH"
CHAPTER VII JOSH SCENTS TROUBLE
CHAPTER VIII IN THE MIDNIGHT WATCH
CHAPTER IX THE GHOST OF THE ISLAND
CHAPTER X FOLLOWING A TRAIL
CHAPTER XI BUSTER GETS AN IDEA
CHAPTER XII YANKEE STUBBORNNESS
CHAPTER XIII THE GHOST HUNTER
CHAPTER XIV A STRANGE RIDE
CHAPTER XV ANOTHER NIGHT
CHAPTER XVI JACK'S DARING VENTURE
CHAPTER XVII THE SECRET OUT
CHAPTER XVIII THE ESCAPE
CHAPTER XIX A RACE IN THE MOONLIGHT
CHAPTER XX OVERHAULED
CHAPTER XXI A CLEAN SWEEP
CHAPTER XXII BUSTER'S HOUR OF TRIUMPH
CHAPTER XXIII HAPPY DAYS CONCLUSION
MOTOR BOAT BOYS SERIES
THE MOTOR CLUB'S CRUISE DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI
THE MOTOR CLUB ON THE ST. LAWRENCE RIVER
THE MOTOR CLUB ON THE GREAT LAKES
MOTOR BOAT BOYS AMONG THE FLORIDA KEYS
MOTOR BOAT BOYS DOWN THE COAST
MOTOR BOAT BOYS RIVER CHASE
MOTOR BOAT BOYS DOWN THE DANUBE
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THE MOTOR BOAT BOYS ON THE ST. LAWRENCE;
or
Solving a Mystery of the Thousand Islands
CHAPTER I AFTER THE GAME
"That was a hard game for Macklin to lose, fellows!"
"I should say it was, Herb."
"He nearly pitched his head off, too. Wow! how they did come in like
cannon balls!"
"And talk about curves and drops, Little Clarence was roight there wid
the goods," said a stout boy; whose freckled face, carroty hair and blue
eyes, as well as the touch of brogue to his voice, told of Irish blood.
"But Jack met his hot pace, and went him one better. Clarence may be a
cracker jack in the box, but he can't just come up to good old
reliable Jack Storm ways, of the high school baseball club."
"Oh, shucks! enough of that taffy, fellows," laughed the object of this
praise, as he swung the bat he was carrying; "why, you know right well I
was up against the fence when they made that ninth inning rally. They
had found me with the goods on. And you know who won that game for
us our never failing, heavy pinch hitter, Buster Longfellow. When his
bat got up against the horsehide I knew it was all over but the shouting
for Clarence."
"Wasn't he mad, though? Hurrah for Buster! He's not built for a runner,
they say, but he's got the batting eye. That hit was a peach!"
"Thanks, George. I believe I did help Brodie dash home with the winning
tally. It's awful nice of you fellows to appreciate talent!"
The boy called Buster made a mock bow as well as he was able. He was fat
and chunky, so that his baseball suit seemed moulded to his figure.
While his name was understood to be Nick Longfellow, he seldom heard it
save at home or in school. To his fellows he was known by such
significant names as "Buster," "Pudding," and "Hippopotamus."
There were just five in the bunch, dusty, tired fellows, all on the way
home from a most exciting game with a rival team, and the most bitter
rivals for supremacy in the little river town along the upper
Mississippi.
Besides Buster and Jack, there were the Irish lad, Jimmie Brannagan, who
lived with the Stormways, being something of a ward of Jack's father;
Herb Dickson, and George Rollins, all of them members of the high school
team.
These five boys, with the addition of another who was not present just
then, composed the membership of a motor boat club, and between them
owned three very clever craft... Continue reading book >>
