[CHAPTER X.]
BETWEEN FIRE AND WATER.
Matt's position in the boat enabled him to watch one dark bank of the river as they glided down toward the lake. He was listening and looking for some sign of life on the bank. Had he seen any one, a shout would quickly have apprised the person of the prisoner's predicament.
But Matt saw no one. Steadily the Sprite glided onward—steadily, but covering so crooked a course that Matt wondered they did not drive into the bank on one side or the other.
The lake was reached. The storm promised by the late afternoon was slow in coming. The wind was no higher than it had been, two or three hours before, but the waves were beating sullenly on the rocks as if in warning of what was to come.
Far across the lake Matt could see the glare of city lights. Because of his position in the boat, the other shore of the lake was not visible to him.
He was looking for other boats, but there were very few boats on the lake at the time. He saw one moving light, however, and essayed a lusty call for help.
Ross swore savagely.
"Clap a hand over that cub's mouth!" he snapped.