He could see Paul Blum laboring at the motor, trying to locate the source of trouble. The fugitive cast a glance backward; Frank could see the anxious expression on the man's face.
"He's trapped, and he knows it."
Rapidly, they gained on the Sleuth, which was now almost at a standstill, drifting back and forth in the waves. Paul Blum seized an oar that was carried in the boat in case of emergency, and frantically began to scull toward the shore.
But his effort was in vain. Tony's motorboat bore swiftly down upon him. The engine of the Sleuth had died.
As the other craft drew alongside, Paul Blum cast aside the oar in admission of defeat. He sat sullenly in the boat without looking up.
"Too bad, Blum!" shouted Frank. "We're going to take you back with us."
"I'd have been all right if it hadn't been for the confounded gas running out," gritted the man.
"We weren't so particular about getting you as we were about getting back our boat," said Joe. "Will you come back quietly?"
Paul Blum shrugged his shoulders.
"I suppose I might as well," he said. "I haven't any weapons. If I had, you may depend on it, I'd put up a fight."