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Foley now called Hildey, who was, asleep in the corner, and said, "Cul, we've got to git out er this place jest as quick as possible. It's too near the city, an' if we're tracked here we'll stand no more chance than a snowball on Beelzebub's gridiron." "What's yer lay, Dennis?" questioned Hildey. "Move up the river," was the reply.
As the party reached the middle of the channel, a skiff came into view from the bend, a short way above, and steered directly toward them. With a cry, Lillian stood up: "Oh, Gil, here come those two bad men that took me away." The boys turned, and they, too, recognized Dennis Foley and Hildey as the occupants of the approaching boat.
Dripping with perspiration, and with hands burned and blistered, Sandy and Gilbert were forging ahead and gaining on their pursuers, straining every nerve to increase their lead. As they rounded a bend in the channel, Hildey shouted: "There's yer chance to plug 'em, pard. Shoot!" Foley obeyed, and the boys' skiff, which was a metallic one, was bored through by the pistol ball.
Through the mad swirl of waters the boy held his boat, and steered her into the quiet tide beyond. Leander and Dink were just turning the bend of the main channel an eighth of a mile away, and the skiff containing Foley and Hildey had reached the outer current of the eddy. "Now you've got 'em," yelled Hildey, as Sandy's skiff veered to the left, not twenty yards from the other.
They were in a ravine near the magazine landing, not more than fifty feet from the spot where the Lillian was launched. Foley, Tom, and Hildey crouched low, and drew the little girl closer. The steady dip of oars was heard up stream, and the voices grew plainer. Out of the mingled sounds was heard, "I agrees with Sandy, he's the dirtiest coward as ever went unhung."
As Foley and Hildey came through under the bridge, the former cried: "Steer to the right channel an' foller that boat; that's the one the kid's in." "They're after us, darn 'em," said Sandy, "but we're gittin' ahead bully. Keep it up, Gil, an' we'll come out all right, see if we don't."
The precaution was unnecessary, for when they came near, they saw the upturned skiff circling around in the eddy, its paddles bobbing with the waves, and the hats of Foley and Hildey slowly drifting toward the bank.
Quick as thought, the boy fired first, and Hildey uttered a sharp cry of pain, as his right arm fell helpless, and his pistol dropped into the water. "Curse the luck!" muttered Foley. "Don't give up, pard; we'll ketch 'em afore they git much further." Though Hildey's right arm was useless, he plied the paddle with his left, and the men continued to gain.
"That's tit for tat," said Dink, "but it wuz a mighty close call fer me. When the bullet whizzed past my ear I thought I was plugged, sure." There were now not more than fifteen yards between the boys and their pursuers. Turning about, Leander saw Hildey raise his pistol and take careful aim at him.
At this junction of the two streams a whirlpool called the Devil's Elbow had been formed, a treacherous spot for small craft, and requiring rare skill to pass in safety. When Sandy told Leander to take the main channel, it was with a desperate hope that Foley and Hildey would be in doubt, for the moment, which skiff to follow as they came out under the bridge.
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