But Maurice knew that it was useless, since the other was by this time out of range, and the gun contained only small shot.
Nevertheless, urged on by the frantic appeals of Thad he did level the Marlin, and bang away, though he saw the man duck down before the reports came.
After the bombardment was over the redhead again poked into view, and the fugitive made a movement with his hand to indicate his poor opinion of such useless business.
Maurice, fearing the worst, began to drag the boat in to shore.
Dixie, having been drawn from his prowling around in search of game by the shouts and shots, leaped in even before the little dinghy had reached the bank.
By the time Maurice climbed out on the deck Thad seemed to have recovered from his excitement to some extent.
"Didn't I tell you I saw a face, and wasn't it a sorrel-top, too?
Mebbe you'll believe me next time, my boy," he said, impressively.
"Where was he, and what was he doing?" demanded Maurice, showing signs of alarm, and looking a bit weak as he contemplated the grave consequences that might follow this raid.
"In the cabin, of course, and making himself at home. He had his boat on the other side there, so I never suspected anything wrong till he dashed out, jumped into it, and pulled like everything."
"Were you on board then?" asked Maurice.