“The tide will drift me around that clump of eel grass,” he told himself, “then——”
Don, as he saw, was banking around.
“Now!” Garry decided that the time was at hand.
Don was coming in.
The switch was thrown. The engine hummed, and forward drove the fast launch.
Above the swamp Don began his approach.
Surprised by the sudden illumination as Garry’s flare lighted up the small expanse of water where the helicopter lay, the Thing in the disguising oilskins and rubber face mask and cap and gloves turned to strain eyes through small cut holes.
Gathering speed the boat came toward his aerial chariot.
With a yell that seemed to combine anger and dismay the Demon swung to the momentum starter of his motor, sent its disk around feverishly.
Garry’s boat swept alongside, the switch on and gears in reverse to drag it to a stop.