"
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.
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