Strive as he would, his eyes could not penetrate the gloom ahead, the moon, just at this time, being back of a heavy black cloud, but it soon became evident that the speedy "Nimrod" was fast gaining on the fleeing boat. Dave pushed the motor to its utmost, being rewarded at last by the positive certainty that the boat ahead was, indeed, the "Rambler." The moonlight suddenly burst forth, revealing its graceful lines distinctly.
Brandon had no idea of making any unnecessary trouble for himself. A moment more, and he hailed the occupants of the "Rambler" in a firm, but not threatening manner.
He heard the sound of a rough voice, but there was no direct answer to his query.
The difficulty and possible danger of the situation now dawned upon him with full force. Superior strength must be met by strategy and courage. His nerves tingled with excitement, but he kept resolutely on his course, determined to make a desperate effort to recover their property.
"Hold on, there! What are you doing with that boat?" he shouted, putting into the words all the force at his command.
Still, there was no reply. The "Nimrod," fairly rushing along, was now within seventy-five feet of the "Rambler," and he could clearly distinguish the figures of two men upon it.
Fearing that they might resort to firearms, he reduced speed, at the same time shielding himself as much as possible.
"Turn that boat in shore!" he cried, fearlessly. "You might as well give up."
"If you don't want to stop a whole lot of buckshot, you'll clear out," returned an angry voice.
"Yes, and do it mighty quick," added the other. "We won't stand no fooling."