Fresh shouting reached their ears. The light in the cock-pit had been seen by their pursuers.
"Starboard! Starboard, sir!" beseeched an anxious voice.
"I see him. Shut up! You ought to have spotted him before. Stand ready now to make fast to him."
The boatman turned a glance in the direction of the voices and whistled again.
"I guess I'd better swim for it," he observed complacently.
"You quitter!" cried Miss Chalmers. "Get that light closer. There—hold it so! Oh, how helpless you are!"
The boatman's ears told him that pursuit was steadily drawing closer.
Miss Chalmers was doing something swiftly and mysteriously—just what, Sam had no idea. She gripped and twisted something with the wrench, then struck something else two smart blows with the hammer. A second later she seized the rim of the fly-wheel in both hands and gave it a vigorous turn. The engine buzzed noisily.
"There—you house-breaker!" she cried triumphantly.
The boatman took the tiller and blew out the candle.