There was excitement among those on deck of the strange sub chaser. Men ran here and there, as if undirected, not knowing what to do.
“He’s running away,” cried Frank, suddenly. “Look. In the small boat.”
He pointed. True enough, the man at the tiller had swung her about for shore, and the rowers were bending their backs as they sent her along on the opposite course. Moreover, a few strokes more would interpose the strange sub chaser between her and the Nark, and whoever was aboard would escape.
It was a time for quick action. Lieutenant Summers was equal to the occasion. Unknown to the boys, he had ordered the three pounder unlimbered, and now sent a shot ricochetting so close to the small boat that the oarsmen were spattered by the spray and the boat rocked violently. Nevertheless, exhorted by their commander, the rowers, who had ceased at first, bent anew to their oars. Another moment, and they were under the stern of the strange vessel and temporarily safe from danger of shot.
Jack, who had been watching developments breathlessly, ran to the bridge, and called:
“May I make a suggestion, sir?”
“What is it?” asked Lieutenant Summers.
“Whoever is in that boat is heading for the other horn of land enclosing the cove,” said Jack, speaking 216 rapidly. “He will land far out on a narrow peninsula. If we send a boat ashore, on a tangent, we can strike the base of the peninsula in time to cut off his escape by land.”
“Good,” cried Lieutenant Summers. “I’ll order the boat out at once. Do you go in it and point the way.”