“I can make out her signal mast,” announced Henry Tremaine.
“Then keep that stick in sight, sir. There’s one nasty trick the ‘Buzzard’ might play on us if she got far enough in the lead,” explained the young skipper.
“What trick is that?”
“If she’s running close enough to shore, she might succeed in putting Dixon on land, then the ‘Buzzard’ could head out on her cruise again. If that happened, every throb of our propellers would be carrying us further and further from Oliver Dixon and his booty.”
“Good heavens, yes!” agreed Tremaine. “Well, I’m holding that signal mast steadily.”
“Does she seem to be nearing land?”
“Not yet. I judge her course to be southward.”
“Let me have the glass a second,” begged Halstead, jamming the wheel spokes with his knees as he reached out for the glass.
He took a long, intent look.
“Yes; she’s holding her southerly course,” Tom declared.