Waddie said no more, and I did not then. Both of us were bracing our nerves for the catastrophe, which could not be postponed many minutes longer.
“Boat, ahoy!” I shouted, with all the voice I could command.
“What do you want?” replied the gruff-toned fellow, who, in the boat as on the shore, was the leading spirit.
“Keep off the shore, or you will all be drowned!” I shouted.
“No, you don’t!” answered back the chief conspirator.
This reply, being interpreted, evidently signified that the speaker did not mean to be caught or run down, or in any other way vanquished by his pursuer.
“By the great horn spoon!” exclaimed Waddie, clinging to the side of the boat, “she is in for it!”
“Keep off!” I shouted furiously; and by this time the Belle was within five rods of the Highflyer.
“Keep off yourself!” responded the gruff-toned fellow; and I noticed they had all covered their faces again.
“You will lose your lives if you don’t keep off!” I added, with all the energy I could throw into the words.