"Frank! Chet!" they cried out in unison. "Are you hurt?"
Frank, then Chet, sat up slowly. Aside from looking a bit dazed, they seemed to be all right. "Rock just
missed my head," Frank said finally.
"I got a mean wallop on my shoulder," Chet panted gingerly, rubbing the sore spot.
"You fellows were lucky," Biff spoke up, and Joe nodded his intense relief.
"How about the telescope?" Frank asked quickly. "Take a look at it, will you, Joe?"
The battered carrying case, pushed out of the straps which had held it in place on the motorcycle, lay in
the road, covered with stone and dirt. Joe opened the heavily lined box and carefully examined the
telescope.
"It looks all right to me," he said in a relieved voice. "Of course we won't know for sure until we try other
eyepieces in it. But at least nothing looks broken."
By this time Frank and Chet were standing up and Biff remarked, "While you two are getting your
breath, Joe and I can take the biggest rocks out of the way. Some motorist may come speeding along
here and break his neck or wreck his car unless this place gets cleaned up."
"Oh, I'm okay," Chet insisted. "The rock that hit me felt just like Bender, that big end on the Milton High
team. He's hit me many a time the same way."
Frank, too, declared that he felt no ill effects. Together, the boys flung rock after rock into the field
between the road and the water and, in pairs, carried the heavier rocks out of the way.
"Guess we're all set now," Frank spoke up. "Biff, I'm afraid you're going to be late getting home." He
chuckled. "Who is she?"
Biff reddened a little. "How'd you guess? I have a date tonight with Sally Sanderson. But she's a good
sport. She won't mind waiting a little longer."
Again the four boys straddled the motorcycles and started off. A few minutes later a noise out in the
ocean attracted Frank's attention and he peered across the rolling sweep of waters. A powerful
speedboat came into view around the base of a small cliff about a quarter mile out. It was followed at a
short distance by a similar, but larger craft. Both boats were traveling at high speed.
"Looks like a race!" Joe called out. "Let's watch it!"
The Hardys ran their motorcycles behind a clump of trees and stopped, then walked down to the shore
line.
The boats did not appear to be having a friendly speed contest, however. The first boat was zigzagging in
a peculiar manner, and the pursuing craft was rapidly overtaking it.
"See! That second boat is trying to stop the other one!" Frank exclaimed.
"It sure is. Wonder what's up," said Joe tensely. "I wish that telescope was working. Can any of you
fellows make out the names on the boats?"
"No," the others chorused.
The two men standing in the bow of the pursuing craft were waving their arms frantically. The first boat
turned as if about to head toward the shore. Then, apparently, the helmsman changed his mind, for at
once the nose of his boat was pointed out into the ocean again.
But the moment of hesitation had given the pursuers the chance they needed. Swiftly the gap between the
racing craft grew smaller and smaller until the boats were running side by side. They were so close
together that a collision seemed imminent.
"They'll all be killed if they aren't careful!" Frank muttered as he watched intently.
The lone man in the foremost craft was bent over the wheel. In the boat behind, one of the two men
suddenly raised his right arm high. A moment later he hurled an object through the air. It landed in back
of the engine housing in the center of the craft. At the same time the larger boat sped off seaward.
"What was that?" Chet asked. "I-"
Suddenly a sheet of flame leaped high into the air from the smaller boat. There was a stunning explosion
and a dense cloud of smoke rose in the air. Bits of wreckage were thrown high and in the midst of it the
boys saw the occupant hurled into the water.
Swiftly the whole boat caught fire. The flames raced from bow to stern.
"That man!" shouted Frank. "He's alive!"
The boys could see him struggling in the surf, trying to swim ashore.
"He'll never make it!" Joe gasped. "He's all in."
"We've got to save him!" Frank cried out.
CHAPTER IV
The Rescue
THE Hardy boys knew that they had no time to lose. It was evident that the man in the water had been
injured by the explosion and could not swim, much longer.
"We'll never reach him!" Chet said, as the four boys dashed across the rocks and grass to the shore.
Suddenly Frank cried out, "I see a rowboat up on the beach." His sharp eyes had detected a large
rowboat almost completely hidden in a small cove at the bottom of the cliff. "We'd make better time in
that!"
A huge rock jutting out of the water cut the cove off from the open part of the beach.
"We'd have to go up to that ridge and then down," Joe objected. "I'll swim out."
"I will too," said Biff.
The two plunged into the water and struck out for the stricken man.
Meanwhile, Frank and Chet sped up the slope, cut across a strip of grass, and began running down the
embankment toward the rowboat.
"That man's still afloat," Frank shouted as he looked out over the water.
Joe and Biff were making good time but were a long way from the man, who seemed now to be drifting
with the outgoing tide. The explosion victim, fortunately, had managed to seize a piece of wreckage and
was hanging onto it.
Slipping and scrambling, Frank and Chet made their way down the slope. Rocks rolled and tumbled
ahead of them. But finally they reached the bottom safely and examined the boat. It was battered and
old, but evidently still seaworthy. There were two sets of oars.
"Grab hold!" Frank directed Chet.
The boys pulled the boat across the pebbles and into the water. Swiftly they fixed the oars in the locks
and took their places. Pulling hard, Frank and Chet rowed toward the distressed swimmer. Presently
they overtook Joe and Biff, who clambered aboard. The man had seen the boys and called feebly to
them to hurry.
"Faster!" Joe urged. "He looks as if he'll go under any second!"
The motorboat in the background was still blazing fiercely, flames shooting high in the air. The craft was
plainly doomed.
The boys pulled harder and the rowboat leaped across the water. When it was only a few yards away
from the man, he suddenly let go his hold on the bit of wreckage and slipped beneath the waves.
"He's drowning!" Chet shouted, as he bent to his oar again.
Joe made a tremendously long, outward dive and disappeared into the water where the man had gone
down. Frank and Chet rowed the boat to the spot and leaned over the side to peer down.
Just then, Joe and the stranger broke the surface of the water, with the boy holding an arm under the
man's shoulders. His head sagged.
"He's unconscious!" Biff whispered hoarsely, as he helped pull the victim into the boat. The man sprawled
helplessly on the bottom, more dead than alive.
"We'd better revive him and get him to the hospital," said Frank.
He applied artificial respiration, forcing a little water from the man's lungs, but the stranger did not regain
consciousness.
"I think he collapsed from exhaustion," Joe spoke up.
Frank and Chet took off their jackets and wrapped them around the wet figure.
"How about taking him to that farmhouse over there-along the road?" Chet suggested.