"She is hoisting her foresail now."
"She will have to take it in again when she gets clear of the land."
With her jib set, the Skylark occasionally put her scuppers under, but she was as stiff as Mount Desert itself, and only heeled over just so far, under any flaw that came.
"I didn't think the captain would run for it so soon," said Mr. Hines. "He didn't even go to the hotel, where a letter is waiting for him. It has the St. John postmark upon it, and I know what that means without opening it."
"He tried to run me down," added Bobtail.
"I saw him do it. His game is nearly up. I intended to arrest him when he came down from the hotel, but he took the alarm from what Ben told him."
As the Eagle ran out from the land, it was evident that she could not long carry her foresail. It was taken in very soon, but she sailed faster without it than with it. The Skylark gained rapidly upon her. The water—Frenchman's Bay—was studded with islands, but Mr. Hines, who had taken the helm, was perfectly familiar with the navigation. As the race began to be a desperate one for Captain Chinks, he dodged in among the islands, tempting his pursuer to make short cuts over sunken ledges; but in all these expedients he failed. The Eagle was a keel boat, and drew more water than the Skylark, so that wherever the former went the latter need not fear to follow. At last Captain Chinks appeared to have given up the race, and Mr. Hines surmised that he was running for a landing-place on one of the islands. But the Skylark was still gaining, and was now almost abreast of the Eagle.
"All ready, Mr. Brooks," said the detective, as the bowsprit of the sloop came up with the quarter of the schooner.