“Then drown,” answered Arnold gruffly. “Your time’s up. What’s it going to be?”
The answer from the launch was profane but decisive. In substance it stated that they were going to get out and that they earnestly hoped the occupants of the white launch would meet with a vast amount of misfortune!
“They’re taking some of the plunder with them,” whispered Toby, watching across the gunwale. “Tell them to drop it, Arn!”
“You heard what I said about taking stuff with you,” threatened Arnold, his voice doubtless sounding quite terrifying through the megaphone. “Drop it quick or we’ll nab the lot of you!”
Mutters and some hesitation then, followed by a splash as one of the men dropped into the water. A second lowered himself very cautiously over the stern, which had swung around nearest to the shore, and the third, pausing long enough to voice his disapproval of the whole proceeding and of the pursuers especially, took a flying leap and cut through the water with long, businesslike strokes, passing his companions half-way to the beach and tossing them a grim jest as he left them astern.
“It worked!” exulted Arnold, jubilantly, to Toby.
“Great! But give them time to get away from shore. That big fellow had something in his mouth, I think; the one who dropped over so mighty carefully. Bring her around, Arn, and be ready to take her in.”
Arnold threw in the clutch, advanced the throttle and the Frolic swung slowly about in a wide circle, while Toby, his hands on the wheel but his eyes on the figures nearing the shore, watched cautiously.
Along the steep and narrow beach ran a fringe of bushes and stunted trees, and when the three men were free of the water they drew together on the beach, seemed to confer for a moment, and then, shouting something unintelligible but doubtless far from complimentary, made their way leisurely out of sight between the bushes.
“All right, now?” asked Arnold eagerly.