The yacht Spray had, indeed, started its sheets, and now, with the wind on its beam, was running off toward a group of small islands, or ledges, on a course nearly at right angles with that which it had been taking.
The boys had watched the Nancy Jane anxiously for the last few hours.
“They are steadily coming up on us,” George Warren had said. “Too bad we could not have got a few hours more start. We might have given them the slip then when night shut down.”
“But we are not sure that they are after us, are we?” asked young Joe.
“No, but it looks pretty certain,” replied his brother George. “There’s nothing particular to start the Nancy Jane down here, and she is Captain Sam’s boat and he is the town constable.”
“Then what had we better do?” queried Tom. “There is not much use running away, if we are sure to be caught inside of a few hours. We’d a sight better turn about and start back, as though we had finished our sail. That would look less like running away.”
It was noticeable that, having once set out to escape, they accepted the situation now fully, without more pretence.
“We have got to decide before long,” said Henry Burns. “The Nancy Jane is overhauling us fast.”
“George,” said Arthur Warren, “I know one chance, if you want to try it, and if you are willing to risk the Spray,—and I think it would save us.”
“What is it, Arthur?” asked George. “If it is any good, I’m for trying it. I can’t see as we have anything great to risk, with a twenty-five thousand dollar fire charged to us.”