“Then you’ve got another guess coming,” responded Fenn. “They’ve put on more steam.”
The other boat seemed to spurt through the waves that were piled up in front of her sharp prow. She easily kept right after the Modoc, and even seemed to approach closer.
“I wonder what they’ll do when they catch up to us?” asked Bart.
“Wait until they catch us,” suggested Ned.
“Well, boys, how about it?” called Captain Wiggs, as he came on deck. “Have you polished up the anchor chain, as I asked you to. The regular polisher-boy is sick, and I’m short handed.”
“You didn’t tell us—” began Fenn, when a smile on the face of the commander warned him that it was only a joke.
“How is our friend, the enemy?” inquired Captain Wiggs, reaching for the glass.
“Well, we haven’t lost her,” replied Frank.
“So I see,” observed the commander. “I think I’ll have to try a little trick.”
He went to the pilot house and soon the Modoc was sweeping away from her course in a long, graceful curve.