The lad stood up and gazed earnestly at his boat, which seemed to be slipping away from him so fast. One of the occupants was in the stern, aiming some glittering object at those in the RED STREAK. For a moment Tom thought it might be a gun. Then, as the man turned, he saw what it was.
"A pair of marine glasses," cried the lad. "They're trying to make out who we are."
"I guess they know well enough," rejoined Mr. Damon. "Can't you go any faster, Tom?"
"I'm afraid not. But we'll land them, sooner or later. They can't go very far in this direction without running ashore and we'll have them. They're cutting across the lake now."
"They may escape us if it gets dark. Probably that's what they're working for. They want to keep ahead of us until nightfall."
The young inventor thought of this too, but there was little he could do. The motor was running at top speed. It could be made to go faster, Tom knew, with another ignition system, but that was out of the question now.
The man with the glasses had resumed his seat, and the efforts of the trio seemed concentrated on the motor of the ARROW. They, too, wished to go faster. But they had not skill enough to accomplish it, and in about ten minutes, when Tom took another long and careful look to ascertain if possible whether or not he was overhauling the thieves, he was delighted to see that the distance between the boats had lessened.
"We're catching them! We're creeping up on them!" cried Mr. Damon. "Keep it up, Tom." There was nothing to do, however, save wait. The boat ahead had shifted her course somewhat and was now turning in toward the shore, for the lake was narrow at this point, and abandoning their evident intention of keeping straight up the lake, the thieves seemed now bent on something else.
"I believe they're going to run ashore and get out!" cried Mr. Damon.
"If they do, it's just what I want," declared the lad. "I don't care for the men. I want my boat back!"