When Wallingford made the startling discovery that it was Miss Bramlett’s blood that spurted against his breast, thoughts of revenge instantly filled his mind. Gently laying the bleeding girl on a sofa, he dashed through the saloon, reaching the head of the stairs that led from the middle to the lower deck, just as Bowles arrived on the lower floor. Making a tremendous spring, he leaped down in season to catch the fugitive before he had time to leap overboard.
As soon as Wallingford leaped on the lower deck, he seized hold of the sleeve of Bowles’ coat, and called the deck hands to assist in arresting the murderer. A stalwart Irishman hurried forward intending to render the aid, but Bowles, who still held the pistol in his hand, leveled it at the man’s head and fired. The bullet grazed the man’s temple, knocking him down, which induced the other deck hands to believe that their comrade was killed; consequently they all beat a precipitate retreat, leaving Wallingford to fight it out alone.
Bowles knew that his only chance to effect his escape was to disable his adversary and leap into the river before assistance could come from the saloon; hence he attempted to shoot Wallingford, which he would have succeeded in doing but his hand was knocked up just as his finger touched the trigger, which caused the ball to fly harmless overhead.
The instant Bowles succeeded in disengaging himself from Wallingford’s grasp, and just as Demar reached the floor, the fugitive leaped into the river and began to swim toward the shore, leaving the pistol on the floor. Wallingford seized the pistol and commenced firing at Bowles, who kept diving under the water in order to dodge the bullets which were whistling in close proximity to his head.
“The White Rose” at that time was running close to the shore. Bowles was an expert swimmer, and it was very plain that, unless prevented, he would easily effect his escape. He had reached a point at least thirty yards from the boat before Wallingford became convinced that all of his shot had missed his man. Throwing off his coat and boots, still holding the pistol in his hand, Wallingford plunged into the water, and set out in pursuit of the escaping outlaw.
“Turn her head in toward the shore, Mr. Haliman, as quick as you can!” cried Captain Quitman, who stood on the hurricane deck; “don’t lose a moment; that foolish boy will be drowned if he attacks that huge villain in the water.”
“It is somewhat dangerous, captain, to attempt to land her there,” replied Mr. Haliman; “we might get her aground.”
“Let her get aground, Mr. Haliman; I had rather sink her than to see that boy drowned by such a monster as Bowles. Go ahead on the starboard, and hold steady on the larboard; point her head toward that tall tree yonder, and stick her nozzle in that sand-bank—quick, quick, Mr. Haliman!”
After Demar had done all he could to dissuade the rash young man from venturing to tackle such a giant while in the water, and being unable to recall him, he threw off his coat and plunged into the river, determined to save the life of his kinsman, or perish with him.
The passengers crowded the hurricane deck and watched the approaching struggle with breathless anxiety.