“Er, no, guess not,” replied George, “but say, that bullet hummed right past my head, and I nearly broke my neck trying to dodge it. Jack, give ’em a return shot, please do!”
This time the man in the fugitive motor boat had evidently turned his attention toward the Tramp, for Jack and those with him plainly heard the peculiar whistle of the passing lead.
It was too much. Jack could stand for a good deal, but this thing of being made a target to suit the whim of a rascally thief galled him. There was one way in which it might be stopped; and this was to let them understand that when George said they were armed it was no idle boast, although they might not be bristling with weapons, as he would have had the others believe.
And so Jack let fly with one barrel of his Marlin, aiming to one side of the white boat, now close at hand.
The charge of shot ploughed up the water. It also caused the head to vanish from the stern of the boat. Evidently that shot created something like a little panic aboard the Saunterer. How were those two men to know but what every fellow pitted against them gripped some sort of dangerous firearm, and with boyish abandon was ready to make use of it?
They did not shoot again, and from this circumstance Jack believed that they were ready to change their plans. If the pursuers could not be frightened off by threats, perhaps they might be content to withdraw, if they could only recover the stolen boat again.
“They’re going to pass the raft by, Jack!” ventured Josh, just then.
“Think so?” the other went on to remark, “well, I’m just guessing otherwise, and that they mean to run alongside. Look sharp, Josh, and you’ll see how they keep on edging that way.”
“What if they leave the motor boat and make a run for the log cabin on the raft--will you crack away at ’em, Jack, and try to hit the fellers in the legs?” was what the excited Josh wanted to know.
“You talk as if any one could put a load of shot just where he wanted it, without doing any serious damage,” he remarked. “If that was easy, I’d like to tickle those chaps; but there’s too serious a chance of crippling them for life, or even worse than that. We’re so close now that a load of Sevens would go just like a great big bullet. I’m not ready for that and won’t be unless they hurt one of our crowd. If that happens, they’ll have to look out.”