Sinking
At the wheel of the motorboat, Tom Tozzle had failed to realize the danger until it was too late. Not until the bow of a large private yacht suddenly loomed out of the darkness did he attempt to bring the boat about.
As the two boats came together with a sickening crash, it seemed that the smaller craft must split from end to end. Cries of alarm went up from the yacht.
Bud braced himself for the impact, and though his arms were nearly torn from their sockets, managed to hold to the side of the boat. Tom Tozzle fared less fortunately. He was hurled overboard.
For an instant after his companion had been flung into the river, Bud stared stupidly at the black, swirling water, as though unable to comprehend what had happened.
“Tom can’t swim a stroke,” he muttered.
Nervously, his hands clenched and unclenched, but the current was running swiftly and he lacked the courage to attempt a rescue. Rather than risk his own life, he would see his friend drown before his eyes. As he stood trembling at the rail, watching the spot where Tom Tozzle had disappeared, a peculiar crackling noise caused him to wheel about.
For the first time he became aware that the boat was listing sharply, and the crackling sound made him think that a fire had started from the engine. In another moment, the flame might reach the gasoline supply! He darted into the cabin.