"By Jove!" exclaimed Ruggles, "they've sent the train after us. I can see smoke through the trees."
"Forty," said Will.
He had now attained the maximum speed. He had seldom ventured to keep it up for more than a quarter of an hour at a stretch, but he was grimly determined to beat the train. No engine had yet run over the newly-laid track at a greater speed than twenty-five miles an hour: surely the driver would not risk a smash. But Captain Espejo was at the man's elbow, continually urging him to go faster. The heavy wagons rattled on behind, the men swaying this way and that, shouting, peering through the trees to the left to catch a glimpse of the hydroplane.
The sun beat down fiercely. Hot though the air was, it blew cold upon the occupants of the hydroplane as she whizzed along. Will and Ruggles were bathed in perspiration. José was oiling the engine.
"How are we now?" asked Will.
"I can't see for the trees. Aren't we near the narrows?"
He was answered by a volley from the bank. He ducked instinctively. Will did not budge; his whole mind was given to the hydroplane. Would the engine stand the strain? He heard bullets slap into the wind-screen, and trembled lest one should strike the engine or find its way into the petrol tank.
"The train's almost level with us," said Ruggles. "Not more than a hundred yards behind."
At this point the railway track emerged upon the river, coming to within a quarter of a mile of it. Here the bank was clear of trees.
"How many trucks?" asked Will.