Tom, however, had no immediate plan of drowning. He was an expert swimmer, and with the sea as smooth as it was to-night not even his clothing hampered him much. In fact, he did not waste much strength on swimming, but soon allowed himself to float, treading water whenever it became necessary.
When the tug was leaving the wharf the young skipper was rather certain he had heard revolver shots, which would quickly bring the law’s whole fighting force together.
“They’ll come hustling along in the ‘Meteor,’” thought the boy. “If I can only make myself seen it will be easier to be picked up than to swim ashore.”
Nor was it long ere he beheld the rays of a searchlight flashing over the water. The searchlight came nearer. Halstead felt certain that the rays came from the boat that was usually under his command.
“Lawrence knows I was lugged aboard the tug, and Joe knows me well enough to know I’d jump sooner than stay with that crowd,” was the opinion with which Halstead comforted himself.
Nor was he disappointed. After a little the rays of the searchlight shone in his eyes, forcing him to close them. But he waved one hand aloft. Nearer came the “Meteor,” and nearer, until Halstead saw that the boat was heading straight for him. Speed was shut off, while hails sounded from the motor boat’s deck. The trim little craft, moving under headway only, came close alongside, while Jed tossed a line over.
“Good old Tom!” cheered Jed. “Now, if you’re fit, swim for it”
So Tom Halstead, dripping, but triumphant and vengeful, returned to his command.
“Take charge, captain, if you feel like it,” urged Lawrence, and Tom, after casting aside his water-soaked coat, stepped to the wheel. “Keep right on after that tug,” added the inspector. “I’ll swing the searchlight for you.”
“I must caution you, though,” spoke Captain Halstead, after he had given Joe the go ahead word, “that the tug carries a two-inch gun and plenty of shells. Alvarez assured me that they’d sink you.”