"Ha, Peters; eh?" exclaimed the boatman. "That's the second craft
he's damaged inside a week with his speed mania. There's Bert
Johnson's little speeder over there," and he pointed to one over
which some men were working. "Had to put a whole new stern in her,
and what do you think that man Peters did?"
"What?" asked Tom, as he bent down to see how much damage his
craft had sustained.
"He wouldn't pay young Johnson a cent of money for the repairs,"
went on Mr. Houston, the boatman. "It was all Peters's fault,
too."
"Couldn't he make him pay?" asked Tom.
"Well, young Johnson asked for it--no more than right, too; but
Peters only sneered and laughed at him."
"Why didn't he sue?" asked Ned.
"Costs too much money to hire lawyers, I reckon. So he played you
the same trick; eh. Tom?"
"Pretty much, yes. But he won't get off so easily, I can tell you
that!" and there was a grim and determined look on the face of the
young inventor. "How long will it take to fix my boat, Mr.
Houston?"
"Nigh onto two weeks, Tom. I'm terrible rushed now."
Tom whistled ruefully.
"I could do it myself quicker, if I could get her back to my
shop," he said. "But she'd sink on the home trip. All right, do
the best you can, Mr. Houston."
"I will that, Tom."
The two chums walked out of the boat-repair place.
"What are you going to do, Tom?" asked Ned, as they strolled
along.
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