Calling to the engineer of the Terror to have an eye on their boat, the boys raced up the bank and across the fields in the direction the police posse had taken. As they started to run they heard the sound of several revolver shots.
“They’re fighting!” cried Jerry. “Come on!”
The boys needed no urging. They raced at top speed in the direction of the shots. As they topped a small hill they could see in a valley below them, two roughly dressed men running away from the chief and his officers, who were a quarter of a mile behind. As they watched they saw the chief raise his revolver and fire twice into the air.
“He don’t want to hit them, he’s only trying to scare them into stopping!” cried Ned. “Come on!”
Down the hill they raced, losing sight of the pursued and the pursuers as they got below the hill top. Still they could hear the shouts of the police.
The chase was now on in earnest. But it was a stern one and likely to prove a long one. The boys, in about five minutes, caught up to one of the officers, and raced along with him. They could hear the crashing of the underbrush as policemen ahead of them raced through it. The chief fired several more shots, but, the boat thieves were not to be intimidated, and did not halt.
In a little while the boys came up to the chief. He and the leaders were panting from the run.
“Have you lost them?” asked Jerry.
“I’m afraid so,” said the chief. “They turned into a swamp, and I’m not familiar enough with it to make it worth while to go in. I’m going to get help from the local authorities and surround the place. Then perhaps I can catch them.”
“Can we take any message for you?” asked Jerry. “I think we’d better be going back. It’s getting dark and I don’t suppose you can do anything more this evening.”