“If those ugly chaps let him. See, they have already changed their course several points. They mean to intercept him.”
“You don’t think they’d bother with him, do you?” cried Will.
“I’m afraid they’re in a bad humor, and ready to tackle anything that offers a chance to work off old scores. If Bluff only had his paddle in decent order he could laugh at them. How foolish of him to take only his single blade along.”
Frank now clapped the glasses to his eyes again.
“Look at that, will you? Why, the breezy chap doesn’t even think it worth while to turn and run, or even try to slip past. He’s coming directly on, and in another minute will run slap into that rowboat, loaded with toughs. I’m afraid there’s going to be a bad spill for our headstrong chum,” he sighed.
“Perhaps he is only holding himself in reserve, and means to make a spurt for it at the very last second. Bluff is smart, I tell you. He knows what those boys are up to, and is far from being asleep. Tell me what he is doing, Frank. I can hear them shouting angrily at him now. Oh! I wish we were out there to help him.”
Will even forgot his natural timidity, and had the chance been given him, would doubtless have proven a hero in defense of his chum.
“He seems to have stopped paddling altogether. Now he reaches down into the bottom of his canoe after something. He is aiming it at them—it’s his paddle—no it isn’t either—as sure as you live, he’s got that repeating-gun of his!”
Even as the excited Frank spoke, over the water they heard a distant voice shout:
“Hands up! you sharks, or I’ll pepper you good and hard. Six shots I’ve got here, as fast as I can pump the lever. Hands up! I say, every one of you!”