Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes passed, when suddenly the loud report of a pistol rang out on the night.
Chick, with an exclamation of dismay, cast the painter loose, and waited.
The next instant a dark form bounded through the air from the stern of the yacht, and the figure of the detective landed in the boat.
“Quick!” he whispered. “Pull, Rattler! Pull for your life! The yacht is loaded with cops! Pull!”
Chick was quick to obey.
The boat was pushed away from the yacht, and the young detective bent to the oars with all his strength.
A dozen dark forms appeared upon the stern of the yacht and a dozen revolvers blazed forth at them.
But either the officers were poor marksmen or else they did not make a great effort to hit the fugitives, for not a bullet took effect.
Still they continued to fire.
Nick, with a second pair of oars, aided Chick in the effort to escape.