As the Italian turned, Dickie Lang caught up a rifle and threw it loosely over her shoulder. Mascola turned to look straight into the muzzle and drew back sharply. Then he flourished a roll of bills.
"Quick," he said. "You have me at a disadvantage this time. I will pay. Here is the money."
He tossed the bills to the deck.
"All right, Mascola. That squares us for to-day. I'll dump your nets over right where they are as soon as I check up the money. And the next time you try to lay around me I'm going to run through your nets and cut them to pieces."
Mascola dropped to the cushioned seat and whirled half about.
"I will not forget," he said. "To-day you win. Next time——"
His words were lost in the roar of his motor. The speed-boat shot forward like a horse at the touch of a spur. In a whirl of white water Mascola sped away for the beach.