Chapter XXIV
CONCLUSION
The mentally queer inventor had rigged up a bench just under shelves
on which rested tools and boat supplies.
Just at the moment the inventor had his back turned to the water
as he stood working at his bench. Dick was able to look at him
while not in immediate danger of being seen himself.
How quietly the Grammar School boy trod water! He hardly dared
breathe, for fear of giving an alarm.
Yet, even in all his astonishment, Prescott did not forget to
let one hand close over the handle of the black bag whose recovery
had brought him here.
"I can't do anything with Garwood alone," reflected Dick swiftly.
"I must get out, if I can, without making a noise, and then give
the hurry alarm. That fellow is mixing something, and, if he
isn't stopped soon, he's quite likely to blow up the boathouse,
himself included."
Fortunately there was sufficient depth of water at this outer
end of the boathouse. Prescott let himself sink so quietly that
there was barely a ripple above his head. Next, with a few cautious
strokes, he carried himself past the hanging side wall and into
the open upstream.
"Gracious, but no wonder Garwood has been able to keep away from
pursuers," thought the boy excitedly, as he swam steadily up toward
the other pier.
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