All at once an exclamation from Bonny directed his attention to another craft coming up the Sound and bearing down on them as though to take part in the race. It was a powerful sloop-yacht standing towards the city from the club-house on Maury Island, and its crew were greatly interested in the brush between the two canoes.
Either by design or accident, the yacht, which was to windward of the chase, stood so close to the big canoe as to completely blanket her, and so take the wind from her sails that she almost lost headway. Then, as though to atone for her error, the yacht bore away so as to run between pursuer and pursued, and pass to leeward of the smaller canoe. As the beautiful craft swept by our lads with a flash of rushing waters, glinting copper, and snowy sails, a cheery voice rang out: "Well done, plucky boys! Stick to it, and you'll win yet!"
Alaric could not see the speaker, because of the sail between them, but the tones were so startlingly familiar that for a moment he imagined the voice to belong to the stranger who had talked with him on the wharf at Victoria, and whom he now knew for a revenue-officer. If that were the case, they were indeed hopelessly surrounded by peril. He was about to confide his fears to Bonny, when like a flash it came to him that the voice was that of Dave Carncross, whom he had not seen since that memorable day in Golden Gate Park.
Although he had no desire to meet this friend of the ball-field under the present circumstances, he was greatly relieved to find his first suspicion groundless, and again directed his attention to the big canoe, which, although she had lost much distance, was again rushing after them. The boy now noticed for the first time, not more than half a mile astern of her, a white steamer with a dense column of smoke pouring from her yellow funnel, and evidently bound for the same port with themselves.
Soon afterwards they had passed the smeltery, saw-mills, and lumber-loading vessels of the old town, and were approaching the cluster of steamships lying at the wharves of the Northern Pacific Railway, which here finds its western terminus. Off these the yacht had already dropped her jib and come to anchor. The big canoe was again overhauling them, and looked as though she might overtake them, after all. A boat from the yacht was making towards the wharves, and Bonny, believing that it would find a landing-place, slightly altered his course so as to follow the same direction.
All at once Alaric, who was again gazing nervously astern, cried out: "Look at that steamer! I do believe it is going to run down the big canoe."
Bonny glanced hastily over his shoulder, and uttered an exclamation of dismay.
"Great Scott! It's the cutter," he gasped. "And they are right on top of us. Now we are in for it."
"They are speaking to John, and he is pointing to us," said Alaric.
"Never mind them now," said Bonny. "Ease off your sheet a bit, and 'tend strictly to business. We've still a chance, and can't afford to make any mistakes."