The approaching coupe, in which two persons were visible, barely slackened pace as it came to the area of water.

Noticing that the flood seemed only hub-cap high, Mr. Hatfield likewise started through it.

A moment later, however, he noted that the water rapidly was deepening on the car ahead. It began to falter, and finally came to a standstill.

"Stalled!" Fred exclaimed in dismay.

"And we're blocked," added Brad. "Think we can back out of it?"

"I'm going to try," Mr. Hatfield said grimly. "I should have waited."

Shifting into reverse, he slowly backed away from the stalled coupe.

The two cars, however, had churned up high waves. As they slapped against Mr. Hatfield's automobile, the engine began to sputter.

"Oh! Oh!" groaned Fred. "Here we go."

The next instant the motor gave a final wheeze and died.

"Come on, fellows, let's push!" Brad urged, starting to open the door.

"No, wait!" Mr. Hatfield directed. "I don't want you to wreck your clothes unless it's absolutely necessary. Someone may come along to help-"

The Cub leader's voice trailed off, for his attention had been drawn once more to the stalled car ahead.

Quite suddenly, the door on the left hand side had swung open.

A boy who might have been twelve or thirteen fairly hurled himself from the car.

In his haste to get away, the lad tripped and fell flat in the muddy water which raced through the underpa.s.s.

"Wow!" exclaimed Brad anxiously. "Did he take a tumble!"

The boy was on his feet again almost in an instant.

To the astonishment of Mr. Hatfield and the Cubs, he plunged off through the water, moving as fast as he could.

At the same time, the right hand door of the coupe shot open.

The headlights of Mr. Hatfield's car revealed the head and shoulders of another occupant of the stalled coupe-a man whom the Cubs recognized as Guy Wentworth, a referee in Juvenile Court.

"Jack, come back here!" he shouted.

The fleeing boy paid no heed.

Mr. Wentworth then sprang from the car and started after the boy. Jack, however, had a good start and the advantage of being more agile.

"Try and get me now!" he taunted. "See you in Juvenile Court!"

Reaching the sidewalk, he waved derisively at the referee. Then, with a scornful laugh, he turned and darted down an alleyway between two shadowy buildings.

CHAPTER 4 High Water

As Mr. Hatfield and the Cubs watched, Guy Wentworth leaped from the stalled car.

"Come back here, Jack!" he shouted after the fleeing boy.

The lad, however, had disappeared.

Mr. Wentworth splashed through the high water to the curb. Realizing that he could not hope to overtake the agile boy, he entered a drugstore, evidently to telephone police.

Upon his return a few minutes later, he paused beside the Hatfield car to talk to the Cub Scout leader.

"What happened?" Mr. Hatfield asked him.

"Oh, Jack Phillips, one of the boys from the Child Study Inst.i.tute, eluded me. I've notified the police. They may pick him up later tonight, but I doubt it. Jack is as slippery as an eel."

"You were taking him to a boys' industrial school?" Mr. Hatfield inquired.

"No, to a private boarding home-to a woman named Mrs. Jones," the social worker replied. "Jack's a real problem."

"I'd judge so," commented Mr. Hatfield.

"He's restless and unstable. Parents are dead. He's been under our supervision more or less for three years now." Mr. Wentworth drew a long breath. "It's been a job, I'm telling you. Jack always has an itch to run away, and get into trouble."

"I take it he didn't look with favor on the idea of being placed in a private home?"

"Jack likes to fend for himself," the social worker replied. "He hates restriction. That, of course, is what he needs and must have. I'm afraid, despite our efforts, he'll end up in an industrial school."

"Think you'll ever see him again?"

"Oh, the police will pick him up eventually," Mr. Wentworth said. "They always do. But the question is-what to do with him when he is brought back."

"Well, I hope you think of something," the Cub leader returned. "I hate to think of a boy being sent to an industrial school, if he has any good in him."

"Jack took advantage of me, when my car stalled in this high water. I see you're stuck too. Maybe I can give you a push."

Applying his shoulder, the social worker tried to roll the car backward toward higher pavement.

"Don't do that," Mr. Hatfield commanded. "You'll strain yourself. I'll call a tow car."

"We'll help push," Brad offered, starting to get out into the water.

"No, wait," Mr. Wentworth ordered. "You youngsters oughtn't to freeze yourselves. This water is like ice. I'm already soaked to the knees. Tell you what! I'll go back to the drugstore and telephone for a tow car that will push both autos on through."