"We're catching them! We're creeping up on them!" cried Mr.
Damon. "Keep it up, Tom." There was nothing to do, however, save
wait. The boat ahead had shifted her course somewhat and was now
turning in toward the shore, for the lake was narrow at this
point, and abandoning their evident intention of keeping straight
up the lake, the thieves seemed now bent on something else.
"I believe they're going to run ashore and get out!" cried Mr.
Damon.
"If they do, it's just what I want," declared the lad. "I don't
care for the men. I want my boat back!"
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.
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