Then he pulled on his clothing
faster than ever before.
He got outside on the pier just in time to see Dave and Tom leading
a dozen men stealthily toward the door of the boathouse. Out
on the water Len Spencer's launch, with half a dozen men in it,
stood as river sentinel.
While those approaching the boathouse door were still more than
a score of feet away there came a startling interruption.
Bang! sounded inside. The door of the building strained an instant,
but did not give way.
"That's our old friend, Amos bang-bang, to a dot," muttered Tom
dryly, as the advancing party of men and boys halted.
"I don't care about fooling with a dynamite factory," remarked
one of the men.
Dick, at a dead run, joined the party.
"Come along!" he cried. "Let's break down the door and find out
whether the poor fellow is hurt."
"Yes! And have that 'poor fellow' hand you a peck of nitro-glycerine
for a surprise," retorted a man.
"Come on, fellows! We can get the door down without help," Dick
called, appealing to his chums.
All five of them rallied to his support. It took but a few sturdy
shoulder blows to complete the work of the explosion and break
the lock of the door.
Dick took one quick look inside.
"Tom, run and 'phone for a physician!" Prescott called back.
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