Reiger yelled for Miller. He gave the boat all the gas she’d take. Miller came staggering down into the cockpit. He glared at Fenner murderously, but Reiger snarled, “Take the wheel. I’m gettin’ the gun out. Maybe this guy’s faster’n us.”
Miller took the wheel and Reiger disappeared aft. Fenner climbed out of the cockpit and followed Reiger. The light was coming up now, and as the moonlight began to flood the sea, Fenner could make out the boat. It was fast all right. He could see the way the bows were lifted right out of the water.
He said to Reiger, “This boat’s goin’ to catch us.”
Reiger shouted down into the engine-room, and the Negro handed up a Thompson gun. Reiger gave it to Fenner, and took another from the Negro. .
“You get on the portside,” Reiger said, lying down flat. “Keep firing at them.”
Fenner lay down. He fired two bursts, taking care that the bullets would go well over the top of the boat. Almost immediately Reiger fired with his gun. Even from where he lay, Fenner could see a shower of white splinters spurt from the bows of the oncoming boat.
Fenner ducked his head as the coast guards replied. He saw the long yellow flashes and heard the thud of bullets as they bit into the sides of the boat. The coast guards kept up such a heavy fire that it was impossible for either Reiger or Fenner to show themselves to fire back.
Miller, watching from the cover of the cockpit, screamed out, “Do somethin’. They’ll be up in a few seconds.”
Reiger peered from behind his cover, saw the boat was within six feet or so and ducked back as the wood began to splinter again.
Fenner turned his head. He could see Reiger lying flat. Reiger shouted to him, “Stand by for a headache,” and leaning over on his side he tossed a small ball-like object right into the other boat.