Glass tinkled. Jack fell to the floor.
CHAPTER IX
A NIGHT ATTACK
"Oh, Jack!" cried Tom, stooping over the boy lying prone upon the pilot
house floor. "Oh, Jack, speak to me!"
Unguided by a hand at the wheel, the Fortuna fell off into the trough of
the sea and began to roll broadside on. Another shot came from the
schooner, but it went wild. The boys crowded about the form of their
fallen chum and tried to lift him to his feet. Frank was the first to
give attention to the boat.
"They're gaining on us!" he cried. "Which switch controls the power?
Let's get away from here before they kill us all!"
"Those levers in the center of the board," directed Harry, "govern the
spark and fuel. Someone get the wheel. Steer due northwest for a while
until we get straightened out!"
Frank whirled the spokes of the wheel rapidly and brought the Fortuna up
to her course, while Harry quickly operated the switches that gave new
impetus to the engines. Soon the Fortuna was cleaving the waves at full
speed. Clouds of spray were thrown far aside as she mounted the crest,
and every plunge into the trough brought a torrent of water over her
bows. Her graceful lines offered little resistance to her progress. She
leaped forward like a thing of life, rapidly leaving the schooner far
astern.
Another shot was fired from the pursuer, but fell far astern of the
flying motor boat. Apparently those aboard the sailing vessel realized
the hopelessness of further effort, for they turned and headed back for
the island so recently left by the boys.
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