He worked so expeditiously that the craft dropped into the water the next minute. Both sprang into the boat, and began rowing with might and main in pursuit of the fugitive.
Poor Sam could only stay on deck, in a torment of fear, while he prayed the good Lord to protect the boy.
When the little boat left the side of the larger one, Jim Travers had improved the precious moments to the utmost.
He had already passed over the greater part of the intervening distance, and never in all his life did he swim as now. And there was need of it, for the pursuers were determined he should not escape them.
Providentially, none of the bullets had struck him, though one or two had passed very near.
Jim cast a terrified glance over his shoulder, and saw the boat coming with great speed toward him.
There was no escape by diving, for there was too much light from the moon.
He must reach land far enough in advance to give him an opportunity to flee or hide himself.
A second after, Jim dropped his feet, and they touched bottom. Straightening up, he found the water reached only to his waist; and, with all the strength of which he was master, he fought his way to dry land, and hurried up the bank.
The pursuers were close behind him, and both fired, the boat being so near that the impetus already given by the oars carried it hard against the shore.