Gradually the little craft gathered headway, until she seemed to be flying through the water. Through scores of rowboats and other small boats, she wormed her way at terrific speed, and at last, far ahead, the pursuers could make out the form of a second launch, also chugging along at full speed.
“We’ll get ’em,” said the fisherman confidently. “The Sybil can outrun anything on the creek.”
“The Sybil, a pretty name for a launch,” Shirley thought, excited as she was.
She kept her eyes ahead, and soon it became evident that the pursuers were gaining. They were now far beyond the town, and one of the officers spoke.
“To tell the truth, we really have no authority out of the city, but we’ll take a hand just the same. Might makes right, you know.”
“We are likely to need you,” said Leonard.
Now the Sybil had gained sufficiently for those aboard to make out the faces of those in the pursued craft. It was as they had expected. The occupants of the first boat were Jones, Briggs, Jimmy and another young man, whom none recognized.
“Guess that is Briggs’ nephew from Cincinnati,” said Leonard, remembering the conversation he had had with the woman who told him of Briggs’ prisoner.
Shirley glanced at the young man in the other boat curiously.
“I seem to have seen him some place before,” she said. “I can’t place him, though.”