leap. Her bow sank and rose, tossing the water from her in black,
oily waves, the smoke poured from her funnel, from below her
engines sobbed and quivered, and like a hound freed from a leash
she raced for the open sea. But swiftly as she fled, as a thief
is held in the circle of a policeman's bull's-eye, the shaft of
light followed and exposed her and held her in its grip. The
youth in the golf cap was clutching David by the arm. With his
free hand he pointed down the shaft of light. So great was the
tumult that to be heard he brought his lips close to David's ear.

"That's the revenue cutter!" he shouted. "She's been laying for
us for three weeks, and now," he shrieked exultingly, "the old
man's going to give her a race for it."

From excitement, from cold, from alarm, David's nerves were
getting beyond his control.

"But how," he demanded, "how do I get ashore?"

"You don't!"

"When he drops the pilot, don't I--"

"How can he drop the pilot?" yelled the youth. "The pilot's got
to stick by the boat. So have you."

David clutched the young man and swung him so that they stood
face to face.

"Stick by what boat?" yelled David. "Who are these men? Who are