He had reached deep water, and was just about to strike out for the opposite shore, when his ear caught the sound of oar-locks. He paused in the act of launching himself into the current, and listened attentively. There was no mistaking the sound, and he waited anxiously to see what would appear.
He had not long to wait, for a couple of minutes later a batteau, very much like the one the rangers had captured the night before, came into sight, rowing slowly upstream. It contained three persons, two at the oars and the third standing in the bow of the boat, looking forward.
Billie sank himself into the water until nothing could be seen below his eyes. There was only one chance in fifty that he would escape detection, but he was in luck, and, as soon as the boat passed him, he struck out for it with all his speed.
Good swimmer though he was, he would never have been able to catch the boat had the men been rowing with any speed; but they were evidently looking for something, and were going so slowly that it was no trick at all to swim up behind and seize the stern with both hands.
For several minutes after he had secured a hold he made no move, being content to let the boat tow him along; but, after a few minutes, he began silently to use his feet and legs and to turn the boat’s head toward the American shore.
At first the oarsmen did not notice what was happening. Then the one on the American side of the boat exclaimed:
“Caramba, hombre! Don’t pull so hard! Can’t you see you are pulling us out of our course?”
“Yes,” echoed the man in the bow, “don’t get too near the American shore tonight. We may be watched.”
“I’m not pulling hard,” replied the other oarsman. “It’s Emilio who is weak. If he would pull harder, there’d be no trouble!”
Hearing the controversy, Billie sank lower into the water, and let the boat hold its course. Then, after a couple of minutes, he again diverted the little craft, being more careful, however, to do it gradually.