“All right, come on and get ’em!” yelled the mate above the noise of singing wind in the rigging. “We can’t stop now!”
“If you don’t heave to I’ll fire!” was the answer.
“Good night!” cried Jimmie from a position near the lee rail, where he could look out beneath the main boom. “That’s Mackinder!”
A revolver shot sounded amidst the tumult of rushing waters and singing rigging. The echo was quickly bitten off by the rising wind. The shot sounded dully above the humming and roaring.
Before Ned could detain him Jimmie fired. Faintly the boys heard a crash aboard the motor boat. The green starboard sidelight of the launch disappeared. Urged on by the tremendous press of wind in her sails the Lena Knobloch was fast dropping the launch astern.
No other shots were fired at the schooner. Scrambling from his position at the starboard rail Jimmie made his way aft to a point beside the helmsman. Here he peered eagerly into the darkness astern.
“I can’t see them at all!” he announced, turning presently to his companions, who were grouped about the little skylight.
“Perhaps we’ve shaken them off for keeps!” ventured Jack. “Did you see who that was with Mackinder?”
“I thought,” said Harry, “that it was his pal, Norton!”
“Well, they’re safely out of reach now!” declared Ned. “I’m glad of it, too! If we can hold on at this gait we’ll soon reach a port in England, where we can transship the Grey Eagle and get home.”