During the afternoon the same relative distances between the two craft were maintained. But, as the sun grew lower, and hues of copper and gold began to spread over the water Tom, on a visit to the deck from his vigil over the engines, noted, with keen joy, that they seemed to be gaining a trifle.
"I'll try and squeeze a bit more speed out of her," he promised, diving below and exercising all his engineering ability to coax even a half a knot more out of the laboring motors.
"How about it now?" he inquired, coming on deck again a few moments later.
"Better and better," exclaimed Jeff exultingly, "I can almost make out the outlines of the tug now. My! but she's burning coal!"
"She needs to," said Tom grimly, "if I ever get my hands on those chaps!"
But darkness fell, and the grim race still kept on.
It was one of those black nights that sometimes come in summer, when the darkness is like a velvety pall. There is no need to describe the chagrin of our friends.
"Maybe she'll show a light," said Jeff cheerily, "we were close enough to her when the dark shut in to see it if she does."
"But she won't," said Tom bitterly, "you may depend on that."
"What! she'll risk running Mackinac—we must be off there now,—without lights?"