“She’s changed her mind,” exclaimed Toby, “and is going down around the Head. How much gas have you got?”
“The tank’s almost three-quarters full.”
“How far will that take us?”
“’Most a hundred miles, I guess. She eats it pretty fast at this pace, but seven gallons——”
“Well, we’re not going any hundred miles,” responded Toby, “and I don’t believe those fellows mean to, either. They’ll either make for the canal and get out into Shinnecock Bay, or they’ll run straight along toward Shelter Island.”
“Are we gaining any?” asked Arnold, anxiously.
“I don’t think so. It’s hard to tell. I guess they’re not going to try the canal. If they were they’d be turning by now. Maybe they think they can shake us off.”
“Then they’ll have to go some,” said Arnold. “Where is she?”
“Dead ahead. See that black spot?”