"Who are they?"
"Haven't the least idea. Tramps, maybe—maybe something worse."
"You mean——"
"I don't know just what I do mean," replied Allen. "Come on, let's do a little sprint, and we may get them. If we don't they'll soon be down on the beach, and it will be all up with the chase if they have a boat, as they probably have."
"If it was on the ocean side we'd have some chance; the surf is heavy to-night."
"Yes, but they're running toward the bay."
As I have explained, Edgemere was built on a point of land. One side of the house fronted the ocean, and the other the bay. At this point the land was not above a thousand feet wide, and the cottage property extended from shore line to shore line.
As Allen had said, the intruders, coming from the cellar, had turned toward the bay side, and if they had a boat waiting for them in those quiet waters they would have no difficulty in pushing off. But if they had gone the other way the unusually heavy surf would have held them back, at least for a time.
"There they go!" cried Roy, breaking out through the last fringe of bushes.
"And in a motor boat, too!" added Roy.