“She lay so far off shore that I couldn’t make it out. Maybe she didn’t have a name. Anyhow, I didn’t get it. But I’m sure it’s the craft you want, all right, though I neither saw nor heard of a boy. I didn’t like the looks of the men any too well.”
“And she’s only about a day ahead of us?” asked Mr. Potter.
“That’s about all. If she has more motor trouble she won’t be that much. I believe you can catch her.”
“We’ll try!” cried Larry.
After that the Elizabeth was speeded up to her top notch, and fairly foamed through the water.
“It looks like a storm,” remarked Larry one night, when, after a hard day’s run, they had put in at a small port to learn that the mysterious craft they were chasing had left but a short time before.
“Yes, and but for the coming storm I’d give chase,” said Mr. Potter. “But, as it is, I think we’d better tie up for the night. Their boat won’t be able to do much in the blow. I say let’s tie up, and go on in the morning.”
Larry agreed that this was a good plan, and the Elizabeth was hove to, and anchored not far from shore. As the occupants of her turned in for the night the wind was rising, and there was a heavy swell on.
It was about midnight when Larry was awakened by an unusual pitching and tossing of the vessel. He was almost thrown out of his bunk.
“Mr. Potter! Something’s wrong.”