“That’s shows that you’re not familiar with boating,” he said, in a moment. “That old barge out there will float in twenty-five inches of water, while the Rambler, sticking her keel down like a knife, requires at least thirty-five inches. I guess the truth of the matter is,” he added, “that the pirates on board the Rambler are coming this way in the hope of dodging the Hawk.”
“Why don’t they do a little shooting?” Case asked. “Those fellows aren’t usually so saving of their ammunition.”
“I guess the police boat isn’t far away,” suggested the mountaineer. “She may be just downstream, or just upstream, but they know she’s hereabouts, and there’d be plenty of shooting if they didn’t suspect her presence. Those fellows usually shoot to kill, too.”
The Rambler came in within a dozen feet of the shore and then turned prow down. The Hawk dropped down, too, edging in upon her every minute. The boys watched the maneuvers with anxious eyes.
“I hope they won’t get to shooting,” Clay said, “because Jule and Teddy must be still on board.”
“If those fellows on the Rambler knew the game they are playing,” Alex declared, “they would turn the motors on full speed and run away from that pirate. Perhaps they don’t know it, but our boat can go three miles while the other boat is traveling one.”
“Let’s go aboard and show them how to run it!” suggested Case.
The prow light was still burning on the Rambler, and the cabin was also brightly illuminated. Through the small window on the port side, they could see Jule busily engaged over the electric coils at the back of the cabin.
“I believe I can get on board that boat without being seen,” Alex declared, and before the others could offer a word of remonstrance, the little fellow was in the river swimming mostly under water toward the after deck of the motor boat. They saw him climb up on the deck and peer in at the window in the rear wall of the cabin.
“The little monkey!” chuckled Clay. “I don’t think I would have undertaken a game of that kind for a million dollars.”