"I could have got that bird in one more second," he muttered ruefully. "If the old man would let us move, we can get him yet."
Gregory threw off the power and hurdled the seat.
"Are you hurt?" he called to Dickie as he hurried toward the stern.
Dickie Lang was not hurt. Only cut by a flying splinter. It was nothing. The girl made her way forward.
"Let me take her until we clear the coast," she said. "You gave me the shivers the way you grazed that reef off China Point."
As they inclined their ears into the gray mist which enveloped them, they caught the murmur of the Fuor d'Italia's exhaust.
Gregory surrendered the wheel.
The girl listened to the rapid-fire pulsations of the boat ahead.
"He's headed out to sea," she said. "And we're going to have to drive to catch him with this lead."
Her words were drowned in the thunder of the Richard's motor and the speed-launch bounded away to overtake her hated rival.