“Anybody hurt over there?” he sang out, as he snatched up his shotgun, and made ready to use it; if the answer was to the effect that damage had been done, Jack might turn the weapon directly on the fleeing craft, and scatter the contents of a shell in that quarter.
“Er, no, guess not,” replied George, “but say, that bullet hummed right past my head, and I nearly broke my neck trying to dodge it. Jack, give ’em a return shot, please do!”
“Bang!” went a second discharge.
This time the man in the fugitive motor boat had evidently turned his attention toward the Tramp, for Jack and those with him plainly heard the peculiar whistle of the passing lead.
It was too much. Jack could stand for a good deal, but this thing of being made a target to suit the whim of a rascally thief galled him. There was one way in which it might be stopped; and this was to let them understand that when George said they were armed it was no idle boast, although they might not be bristling with weapons, as he would have had the others believe.
And so Jack let fly with one barrel of his Marlin, aiming to one side of the white boat, now close at hand.
The charge of shot ploughed up the water. It also caused the head to vanish from the stern of the boat. Evidently that shot created something like a little panic aboard the Saunterer. How were those two men to know but what every fellow pitted against them gripped some sort of dangerous firearm, and with boyish abandon was ready to make use of it?
They did not shoot again, and from this circumstance Jack believed that they were ready to change their plans. If the pursuers could not be frightened off by threats, perhaps they might be content to withdraw, if they could only recover the stolen boat again.
“They’re going to pass the raft by, Jack!” ventured Josh, just then.
“Think so?” the other went on to remark, “well, I’m just guessing otherwise, and that they mean to run alongside. Look sharp, Josh, and you’ll see how they keep on edging that way.”