Grantley opened fire as soon as he had a target, and the detectives answered him, shot for shot; but no damage was done on either side. Only the upper part of the surgeon’s head showed above the barge’s cabin, and, on the other hand, those who were running over the pitching barges presented difficult marks.
Nick and his companions crossed the first canal boat in a few bounds and jumped to the deck of the middle one of the three which lay side by side.
At that, Grantley ceased firing and his head disappeared. A moment later they heard a splash. The criminal had taken to the water, as Nick had anticipated.
Fortunately, it was broad daylight, and there seemed no likelihood that he could escape them, no matter how good a swimmer he might be, with the shore far away.
As it stood, the detectives were practically out of the race. They could have plunged in after Grantley, to be sure, but there did not appear to be any need of that, unless he should attempt to drown himself.
The police boat would have to take care of him now, and it was quite capable of doing so, to all appearance, although it might be two or three minutes before it could come up with him.
Nick and his assistants had forced the issue so suddenly and dauntlessly that the official craft was still backing past the long line of canal boats when Grantley took to the water. It would have to keep on until it was clear of them and had room enough to swing around and steam behind them.
After one glance at the head of the swimmer and another at the maneuvering police tug, Chick turned his attention to the game he had already brought down.
He did not believe that Siebold was plucky enough to try to shoot any of them in the back, but it was well to put him out of temptation.
As he had expected, the wounded man was too much occupied with his own suffering and to what was going to happen to him to give any thought to revenge.