The outline of the disabled boat now grew more distinct. Porter swung around toward it and called:
“Need help?”
After a moment’s wait, a voice replied:
“Yes. You tow me to Chicago. I pay you.”
It was a voice which Orme recognized as that of the Japanese who had been with Maku in the attack at the Père Marquette.
“Can’t do that,” answered Porter. “I’ll take you in to Evanston.”
“No!” The tone was expostulatory. “I go to Chicago. I fix engine pretty soon.”
At this moment Orme raised his lantern and directed its light into the other boat. It shone into the blinking eyes of the Japanese, standing by the motor. It shone——
Great Heaven! Was he dreaming? Orme could not believe his eyes. The light revealed the face of the one person he least expected to see—for, seated on a cushion at the forward end of the cockpit, was the girl!