The light moved shoreward as he spoke, carefully searching the rocks which fringed the coast. Gregory threw the wheel in the opposite direction and struck out at a tangent toward the sea. His speed would soon carry him beyond rifle range. Kicking open the cut-out, he advanced the throttle. The Richard shook with the sudden burst of power, then began to plane.
Gregory kept his eyes on the moving rays as he held the launch on her seaward tack. The light was moving nearer, but its beams were paling. The cutter evidently had not moved from her anchorage. Doubt
less she would be kept fully occupied at the goose-neck. The next instant the fog-wall ahead dripped in the rays of the searchlight.
Gregory's hand flashed to the spark as his foot released the throttle. The angry roar of the speed-boat died away on the instant and the hull dropped sullenly. Putting about, he started shoreward at right angles to his former course.
The whine of machine-gun bullets sounded over his head to the starboard. Then the leaden hail was drowned by the bark of the open exhaust.
He had done the right thing that time. To have tried to dodge at speed would have turned the Richard over. Now he was safe for a few seconds at least he reflected, as he watched the light traveling over his former course.
As the rays again bent shoreward he saw a long point projecting out into the sea. Beyond the jutting promontory he would be safe. Running a course which would carry him clear of the point by a narrow margin he settled low in his seat and dashed forward.
The fog-dimmed light hovered about the point as the Richard plunged boldly into the focus of its dripping beams. As the launch veered to make the turn, the waters astern were splashed by the steel pellets from the Bennington's machine-gun. Then the gunner of the revenue cutter began to raise his sights. Splinters flew from the Richard's stern. The coaming was riddled as the deadly hail moved toward the bow.
The gunner on the Bennington ceased grinding as the launch disappeared behind the point.