But at last both vessels came to a standstill, about quarter of a mile apart.
"Now what's to do?" questioned Sam dismally.
"I reckon we can whistle for a breeze," returned his brother.
"Whistling won't do us any good. I've been wondering if we could not do some rowing in the small boat."
"Hurrah! just the thing!"
There was a small rowboat stored away on board the Swallow, and this was now brought forth, along with two pairs of oars.
"Gwine ter row ober, eh?" observed Aleck Pop. "Racken you dun bettah been careful wot youse do."
"We shall go armed," answered Tom.
The boys soon had the rowboat floating on the lake, and they leaped in, each with a pair of oars, and with a pistol stowed away in his pocket.
From the start those on board of the Peacock had been afraid that the yacht was following them, and now they were certain of it.