Even if they had two oars to use Kitty knew it would be suicide to sit up to row.
“I’ll start the motor,” she said.
On her stomach she wiggled toward the motor. At such a disadvantage she wondered if she could get the engine going. But she must! There was no other way for them to get away from that shower of lead.
“But you can’t see to steer,” said Brad. “We’ll go headlong into the marsh.”
“We’ve got to take a chance. I have a general idea of the channel beyond here—passed this way the other day when Billy and I came here.”
To Kitty’s infinite relief the starter responded to her touch. The sound of that motor was only an invitation to more shots. This time they were aimed low, evidently with the hope of puncturing the boat’s side and hitting them as they crouched below the gunwale. But the lead spattered harmlessly into the water.
“Brad, Are You Hurt?” Kitty Wailed