Clancy took another look through the glass. Burton's face was livid and ghastly, and it was plain that he was hard put to it for breath. With feeble, faltering strokes he was coming to the surface. Hill was following him as relentlessly as a shark.
The rowboat, from which Burton had dived, came alongside the flat-bottom craft. The fellow at the oars Clancy did not know. The motor wizard had half expected to see either Gerald Wynn or Bob Katz, but the oarsman was neither of these.
"What's happened?" he asked, a tense note of alarm in his voice.
Before Ike could answer, Burton's head bobbed to the surface, and a gurgling cry for help floated over the water.
"Wait a minute!" called Clancy, catching the side of the smaller boat before the man at the oars could get away from Ike's craft, "I guess I'll go with you."
Without much difficulty, Clancy transferred himself from one boat to the other.
"You needn't wait for us, Ike!" he called. "Have our clothes ready for us when we call for them, that's all."
"What're you trying to do?" demanded the oarsman.
"We've got two fellows to pick up," Clancy answered, "and I'm going to help. Are you a friend of Burton's?"
"I get half he makes for handlin' the boat for him."