He leveled it at the vessel.
“It’s the Rover! I know her shape” said he.
“Be heavens, I’ll folly her if I have ter shlape at ther wheel!” said Barney. “We’ll niver lose thrack av her now.”
“Our only hope of capturing Murdock is to keep her in view,” said Frank, grimly.
“It shall be done!” the detective declared.
And Pomp was equally as determined about the matter.
CHAPTER XIII.
A BOMBSHELL.
A week had passed.
During all that time she had been steadily chasing the steamship without gaining a mile on her in consequence of the loss of one of her driving wheels.
Barney remained on deck, bound to the railing; Pomp was down in the engine-room, and Frank stood at the wheel with Reynard.