CHAPTER XII—THE FIGHT ON THE LAKE
Fleet was the first to notice a skiff containing two men, well out in the middle of the lake and making on a tangent for the east shore.
“Look!” he cried. “What’ll you bet that those are not Dave Higgins’ robbers?”
“I don’t think that would be a safe bet,” said Bert. “What do you think, Chot?”
“They are too far away for me to judge accurately, but from this distance I should say there was a marked resemblance.”
“I wish Higgins were here,” said Tom.
“Well, it’s two miles to his place. Too far to go, because the men would then have too great a start,” said Chot. “I believe the best plan will be to overtake them, make sure they are the ones we suspect, and if so, capture them and hold them until we can communicate with Higgins or the authorities. What do you say?”
All of the boys expressed great eagerness to do this, so they quickened their gait until the canoes were fairly flying through the water. It did not matter now if the perspiration ran down their faces, into their eyes, and down their backs inside their shirts; they did not feel the exertion with an adventure in prospect. No real American boy does.
The figures in the skiff were nearly a mile away, but the comrades soon cut this distance down to three-quarters, and headed for a spot that would cross the path of the other craft within the next ten or fifteen minutes, if the men held their present course.
The men in the boat had evidently not noticed the boys in the canoes, and when they finally did discover them, the canoes were between them and the shore for which they were heading.