CHAPTER VIII
I
They rushed to the water’s edge, as the two men who had been chasing Neuburg came tumbling down the slope through the trees.
“The feller’s an Indian!” they shouted. “Led us on a faked trail right up to the top, while he doubled back an’ made for the water. We only saw him when he’d got way out on it. Sakes, I wantter get that big feller just to cry quits.”
“You won’t,” said Clement. “We’re marooned.”
“No, we ain’t!” shouted another man. “There’s another motor boat—look!”
“He knew that wasn’t any good,” said Clement, “or he’d taken it.”
Indeed, the motor boat that had been left behind was the one they had watched Siwash and Neuburg tinkering with.