It seemed incredible that their carefully concealed get-away had come to naught so soon. Surely the police boat was not after them. Perhaps one of the boatmen on the Mary Jane, or another of the canal boats, had knocked somebody down in some waterside quarrel. That must be it, and yet——
“Tug, ahoy, there!” an authoritative voice boomed through a megaphone. “Don’t be in a hurry! There are a couple of fellows we want back here.”
The voice was startlingly close, and the sound had hardly died away before the bow of the police boat came into view opposite the criminals’ position.
Their fears were uppermost now, and their terrorized instincts told them that the worst had happened.
With one accord they rose to their feet, whipping out their automatics as they did so.
One penetrating glance was enough for them.
They recognized Nick and Chick, and realized that there was something vaguely familiar about the appearance of a third figure on the police boat’s deck—that of Jack Wise.
Before those about them knew what was happening, they had begun firing.
The tow was a big one, consisting of nine barges in all, lashed three abreast. Grantley and Siebold were on the left-hand barge in the first tier, counting from the front. Therefore, as the police boat had approached on the right, they were obliged to fire across two of the barges.
The approach of the official tug had drawn the attention of the boatmen on all of the barges. Two or three of these curious ones were almost within the line of fire, with their backs turned to the fugitives.