uffing heavy black cigars, the smoke of which as it streamed astern
might have suggested that the launch was impelled by steam instead of
gasoline. She ran smoothly, and Noxon, with a pale face, his hands
grasping the wheel, steered as skilfully as Alvin Landon had directed the
swifter _Deerfoot_. He had done it many times and had no fear. The young
man had come to the parting of the ways, and nothing could turn him back.
His resolution was due to the wound, which had distressed him so much
when he hobbled to the home of Mrs. McCaffry that he believed for a time
he was near the end of life, and when one reaches _that_ point he is sure
to do some serious thinking.

Just above Clough Point, marking the northern extremity of the large
island of Westport, the _Water Witch_ turned eastward through the Narrows
and headed straight south down the Sheepscot River to its destination
some ten miles away. Noxon seated with his hands upon the wheel remained
silent. The officers spoke to each other now and then in low tones, but
most of the time left him to his meditations. He held the boat to
moderate speed, for there was no call for haste. She was running easily,
but a glance by the young man into the gasoline tank showed the supply
was low, and he wished to avoid stopping at any of the landings to renew
it. Besides, high speed is always a strain upon an engine, and he was
nervously anxious to prevent a breakdown at a critical point in the
enterprise. His familiarity with the launch made him cautious.

While Calvert and Hagan were following a clearly defined plan, they knew
"there's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip." They had high hopes of
finding the other boat at the spot which Calvert had facetiously named
the Beautiful Isle of Somewhere, but it might well happen that they would
be disappointed. At the first sign of danger the _Deerfoot_ would run
away and her superior fleetness would leave her pursuers hopelessly
behind. Above all, it was important that the criminals should not
discover their peril in time to get away.

"Noxon," said Calvert, leaning forward, "let us know when we are near the
cove."

"We are within less than a mile of it now. It is just ahead on the
right."

Each officer flung his stump of a cigar overboard and slipped from his
chair to the bottom of the boat. Inasmuch as their interest was centred
on one side of the boat, they crowded each other a little. They removed
their headgear and permitted on