When well into the river, Frank could look ahead, as the vista opened out above the Point, and see the stolen canoe, with the two thieves aboard. Shoup was in the stern and Lenning at the bow. Both were using their paddles like mad, evidently trying to get across to the other bank.
“Get busy, Clan!” called Merriwell quietly, but compellingly. “I think we can overhaul those fellows before they land.”
“We’ll have to go some, if we do,” was the answer.
“I guess we’ve shown that we can do that, all right.”
Shoup, taking a survey over his shoulder, saw that he and Lenning were pursued. He spoke to Lenning, and both bent fiercely to their paddling.
They were awkward at the work, and the canoe zigzagged back and forth. But, in spite of the poor paddling, it looked as though the two might reach the bank before Merriwell and Clancy could get to them.
“Great guns!” cried Clancy, as an idea suddenly burst on his mind.
“What’s to pay, Clan?” asked Merry, keeping his keen, calculating eyes straight ahead.
“I’ve just thought of something, Chip. Those two hounds are trying to get away—they were on top of the Point—they dropped that rock down on us! By thunder, what do you think of that!”
“I wouldn’t say that until I had some proof,” counselled Merriwell. “Shut up, Clan, and dig in! We’ve got to if we get close enough to lay hands on them.”