But Tew had divined his purpose and with a superhuman effort caught the swinging arm and by his superior strength diverted the blow enough so that it clanged harmlessly against the water-cooling outer casing of the motor.
Tom, seeing the futility of his blow, released the wrench.
As he sprang back there came a report from the cutter.
But at the same instant Don Ortiga fired back, crying “Down—flat—everybody!” They all crouched.
“Jump—Nicky!” cried Tom. “Jump overboard.”
Nicky leaped onto the cushioned side seat and tried to elude the gripping hands. Tom, on his end of the cabin floor, made a similar effort. The engine roared as contact was made, and the Libertad, gathering headway, swung her nose and made straight for the cutter.
Lieutenant Sommerlee and his two men were firing, but while woodwork in the cabin window sashes flew in splinters, they had to fire carefully so as not to touch the two boys.
Tom and Nicky were struggling, each caught by the legs. They strove manfully against the heavy odds, but while the men dared not show their heads, or expose their bodies to the fire from the cutter, they could drag at the boys in safety.
The uneven struggle lasted only a moment and the boys were lying, pinioned, panting, helpless on the cabin floor.
The Libertad, veering suddenly, made a sweeping curve, turning aside from the cutter. In the position which the cutter was faced, coming head-on, she had to pass astern of the Libertad before her men could control the tiller and turn her rudder.