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Updated: May 18, 2025
"And we're going to have to drive to catch him with this lead." Her words were drowned in the thunder of the Richard's motor and the speed-launch bounded away to overtake her hated rival. "The fog is lifting. Soon it will be clear. We must watch closely for pursuit." Mascola grunted a reply to Bandrist's observations. Weather conditions meant very little to him at the present moment.
The speed-launch which Barrows was building for him would serve as a signal boat, but even that would not serve to keep the other boats in constant touch with one another. Before they reached the last of the available boats they met Mascola coming back. While the girl stormed at their helplessness to cope with the situation, Gregory spoke in monosyllables and wrestled with his problem.
He leaped from his seat as the Richard breasted the blazing hull and Dickie found herself gripping the big steering wheel before she could utter a protest. Gregory was already in the stern of the Richard. Grasping the stern-anchor chain of the speed-launch, he caught the wire-stays of the Florence and pulled himself aboard, dragging the chain after him.
Speeding through the dancing waters of the sunlit bay came a speed-launch, heading in the direction of the cannery wharf. But it was not the Fuor d'Italia. His eyes followed the course of the oncoming stranger and a worried frown leaped to his brow. It couldn't be that Joe Barrows had completed the Richard already. He glanced at the calendar and his frown deepened.
Proceeding to the Curlew, Bronson tied the Richard alongside and the party from the speed-launch climbed aboard. Then the girl conferred with Gregory and plans for the night were formulated. The fleet would lay at anchor with every motor in instant readiness to get the respective vessels under way at a given signal.
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