“You’re captured!” he shouted to the invisible creature. “You might as well give up and save trouble.”
No answer came.
Don saw that the electric-powered boat was almost within reach as he hurriedly unclasped his safety belt, clambered onto a brace of his lightly rocking aircraft, and stretching out his arm, caught hold of the motor boat’s gunwale.
Quickly he got in.
To throw in the switch, and to light the small, but strong, spotlamp in the bow was the work of but a second.
The ray probed across the water, picked out Garry, treading water, close to the grass where he had seen his quarry vanish.
Picking up momentum to the hum of its motor, the vessel under Don’s steermanship moved to a point where Garry could catch its coaming, and draw himself in.
As he deposited his wet body in the bottom, Don backed water, in a slow, curving course, so that the small craft was ready, when he cut out the gears, to be flung forward, with turning room, in any direction he chose. His hand, on the light, swung its beam to and fro, sending scattering, filtered rays through the grass.
“I didn’t hear him move away!” Garry was up and at the bow with Don as he spoke.
“He must be just within the clump of grass.” Don drew closer, at very low speed.