A figure straightened up in the boat ahead, waved his arms above his head, and with a cry toppled into the water. The boat did not slow down. The others plainly did not intend to take the time to attempt a rescue.
"Shall we pick him up, sir?" asked Frank.
Lord Hastings shook his head.
"We have more serious business in hand," he replied. "He will have to take his chances."
Still the pursuers gained; but it became apparent now that they could not hope to overtake their quarry before he reached shore.
"Ready to take a shot as they jump out of the boat," was Lord Hastings' command.
All drew their revolvers and stood ready.
Now, there was little doubt in the minds of all that they could pick off the fugitives as they leaped ashore, and they probably would have done so but for an unforeseen occurrence.
The pursuers had lost a little time in maneuvering to get in an effective shot, and the pursued now were more than a hundred yards ahead.
As the first boat was a scant fifty yards from shore, a third craft hove in sight, headed down the river. It was going in such a manner as to pass directly between pursuer and pursued as the latter landed.