His quick ear had told him just what had happened. Claudia had loosened the launch from the landing stage, and putting on some of the power, was coming rather slowly to his aid.
“If she can get to me before the skiff, it will be a good thing,” he muttered. “I wish she’d hurry up that engine a little. What a pity I did not give her a lesson while we were coming up the river! However, it’s too late now. I’ll have to be grateful that she can do as much as this.”
It soon resolved itself into a three-cornered race, with the chances about equal.
If the launch were to get to Nick and the unconscious Marcos first, the probability was that the men in the boat would be circumvented. There was still another chance. Even if Nick could swim away in the darkness, so that the searchlight could not pick him up, it would not be bad.
On the other hand, if the boat got to him before the launch, then the whole purpose of the expedition up the river would be frustrated at once.
It was soon apparent to the detective that Claudia was handling the launch very well so far as the steering was concerned.
She did not quite understand the engine. Therefore, she hesitated about opening the throttle too wide, with the result that her speed was less than it need have been.
On came the boat, while the launch bored her way forward steadily in the other direction.
Nick Carter never allowed his exertions to flag for an instant. Whatever the boats might do, he knew that it would be better for him to get as near shore as possible.
“There he is!” exclaimed the gruff voice he had heard before, as the small white light sought out his face again. “He’s swimming for shore. We’ve got him now!”