“I don’t see a soul on board,” said Larry, as once more he looked through the glass. “Maybe the boat has been abandoned.”
“No, sir, she is under way,” said the lookout. “You can see the foam at her stem, and the exhaust from the motor.”
“That’s right,” admitted the young reporter, when his attention had been called to these points by a trained seaman.
Nearer and nearer together the two craft came. But, just as the lookout was about to give a hail, and make the request for the loan of the gasket packing, there was a sudden increase in the foam under the bow of the suspicious-looking craft.
“She’s off!” cried Larry. “They’ve taken the alarm!”
“That’s so!” agreed Mr. Potter. “Oh, if only both our motors were working!”
Dingy looking though she was, smaller in size and evidently inferior in every way, the other craft showed a surprising burst of speed. Rapidly she drew away from the Elizabeth.
“Oh, my boy! My boy!” cried Madame Androletti. “I will never see him!”
“Yes, you shall!” cried Larry. “We’ll get him yet!”
“Give us all the speed you can!” Mr. Potter called down the tube to the engineer of the motor craft.