"Look at the middle port, Steve," whispered Phil.
Steve looked. The nearer side of the _Follow Me_ was in shadow, but a
quivering beam of sunlight, reflected from the surface of the water,
glinted on the muzzle of a revolver held just inside the open port.
"Every fellow under cover," said Steve quietly. "That means you, too,
Joe. Duck! They've got a gun trained on us. Who's the best shot here?"
"Wink," answered Joe.
"Give him one of the revolvers. Are you there, Wink?"
"Yes," answered the other from the forward companion way.
"Get a bead on that middle port. You'll see a gun sticking through
there. Don't shoot unless they shoot first. Better go into the other
cabin. There's no harm in letting them see you, but don't keep your head
exposed. Someone hand me that other revolver."
On the other boat Steve's silence was accepted as a confession of
indecision and a jeering laugh came across the water. The _Adventurer_
was drifting toward the shore now, and Steve turned and slipped the
clutch into reverse and churned back a few yards. Then he faced the men
again.
"You can't get away with it, you know," he said untroubledly. "We can
stay here as long as you can. If you run we'll follow you, and at the
first port we'll hand you over to the authorities.
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