The schooner was almost upon us by now; for, of course, she was headed for the nearest way out of the bay; and that way happened to be our way.
But I was brought sharply back to Pawlinson.
“And now,” said he, “I think we’ve got something that’ll work.”
As he said this, he, too, clambered from the speed boat into the punt along with me.
Now, mind you, the engine was still running in the neutral.
“Reach over there!” he ordered. “Full speed ahead! You can reach the lever from where you stand. You know best how to do it. You start her, and the rudder’ll do the rest.”
Then it was, on that very instant, that there flashed over me a light of understanding as brilliant as the calcium that still played about us.
“You don’t mean it, man?” I cried; for I remembered now the strong metal stringers of the hydroplane’s structure; the weight of her engine; the impact that it meant at a twenty-five-mile-an-hour clip. The boat lay low in the water; and the hole she’d make in that yacht-planked schooner would be well along, and even below the water line.
“I do mean it!” he yelled. “And now’s the time! About amidships she’ll catch it, I think. We’ll watch it from the punt.[Pg 43]”
I felt myself boil as would any civilized man.