Again the rascal laughed loudly, while Chick and Patsy, on the deck above, screamed warnings to their chief.
“Look out!” begged Patsy. “Better let him go than you tumble into the sea. Don’t take the chance!”
“That’s so. Keep back!” added Chick.
Paul Clayton and Douglas were both standing near the side of the ship, looking over.
The former did not speak, while the chief of police contented himself with pointing his revolver at John Garrison Rayne, in the motor boat, and threatening to fill him so full of lead that he would weigh a ton.
It was just now that Nick Carter took the chance which his assistants pleaded so hard with him not to attempt.
He saw that there was a considerable width of open water between him and the motor boat. On the other hand, he was far enough up the ladder to be able to make a considerable broad jump.
The thought of this scoundrel getting away, now that he was so nearly caught, maddened him. So, judging his distance carefully, he leaped out from the ladder with all the power he could summon.
It was a risky performance. But luck reënforced judgment, and the detective came plump down into the waist of the little craft, immediately behind Rayne, who stood at the wheel, with his feet far down in the well.
The motor boat rocked dangerously from the concussion when Nick Carter dropped. Before it could quite recover, it was caught in a cross sea that tested it a little more.