The occupants of the ARROW were looking to the rear again, and one—Happy Harry, Tom thought—shook his fist.
"Ah, wait until I get hold of you!" cried Mr. Damon, following his example. "I'll make you wish you'd behaved yourselves, you scoundrels! Bless my overcoat! Catch them if you can, Tom."
There was now no doubt of the intention of the fleeing ones. The shore was looming up ahead and straight for it was headed the ARROW. Tom sent Andy's boat in the same direction. He was rapidly overhauling the escaping ones now, for they had slowed down the motor. Three minutes later the foremost boat grated on the beach of the lake. The men leaped out, one of them pausing an instant in the bow.
"Here, don't you damage my boat!" cried Tom involuntarily, for the man seemed to be hammering something.
The fellow leaped over the side, holding something in his hand.
"There they go! Catch them!" yelled Mr. Damon.
"Let them go!" answered the lad as the men ran toward the wood. "I want my boat. I'm afraid they've damaged her. One of them tore something from the bow."
At the same instant the two companions of the fellow who had paused in the forward part of the ARROW saw that he had something in his hand. With yells of rage they dashed at him, but he, shaking his fist at them, plunged into the bushes and could be heard breaking his way through, while his companions were in pursuit.
"They've quarreled among themselves," commented Mr. Damon as high and angry voices could be heard from the woods. "There's some mystery here, Tom."
"I don't doubt it, but my first concern is for my boat. I want to see if they have damaged her."