Burnside thought a moment, and quickly made up his mind.
"Come—quick—jump up here with me," he called. Then to the other men,
"I'll be back soon. Wait here. Let her go!"
I had jumped up and they spun the propeller. The hydroaeroplane feathered along the water, throwing a cloud of white spray, then slowly rose in the air.
The sensation of flying was delightful, as the fresh morning wind cut our faces. We seemed to be hardly moving. It was the earth or rather the water that rushed past under us. But I forgot all about my sensations in my anxiety for Elaine.
As we rose we could see over the curve in the shore.
"Look!" I exclaimed, straining my eyes. "She's overboard. There's a motor-boat after her. Faster—over that way!"
"Yes, yes," shouted Burnside above the roar of the engine which almost made conversation impossible.
He shifted the planes a bit and crowded on more speed.
The men in the boat saw us. One figure, tall, muffled, had a familiar look, but I could not place it and in the excitement of the chase had no chance to try. But I could see that he saw us and was angry. Apparently the man gave orders to turn, for the boat swung around just as we swooped down and ran along the water.
Elaine was exhausted. Would we be in time?