"Put-put-put!" sounded over the water, coming nearer all the time.
"Re—-e—-e—-e a d e! T o m R e a d e! Help—-quick!" yelled Harry, lustily.
This, doubtless, was the first call that Tom, at the bow of the motor boat, thought he heard.
Uttering a snort, this time, instead of the laugh, the black sprang at his intended prey. Their heads met, with considerable force. Then, with a wild chuckle, the black wound his apelike arms around the young engineer.
"Reade! Tom Reade! Reade!" bellowed Hazelton lustily, as he tried desperately to free himself from the crushing embrace of the other.
* * * * *
Over the waters came the penetrating beam of a small search-light. The "Morton" was coming nearer all the time, but the ray did not yet reach with any great clearness the point where Harry Hazelton had been fighting for his life against his strange foe in the black night.
"Keep parallel with the wall, Evarts," Tom ordered, crisply. "Conlon, are you pushing the engines for all it's worth?"
"Yes, sir," came from the engine-tender. "This old craft isn't good for quite seven miles' an hour, anyway."
"There! Now I've picked up the part of the wall where there isn't any wall in sight just now," said Tom, wincing over his own bull. "Hazelton ought to be just this side of there."