in my heart that Mr. Gow had followed
my instructions and left the dinghy within easy reach of the water.
Otherwise I was in a tight place, for though I could swim to the
_Betty_ all right, it would be impossible to take her out of the creek
in a dead calm and with no petrol aboard for the engine. I should be
compelled to stand at bay until a breeze got up, repelling boarders
with the boat-hook!

Just before I reached the sea-wall I looked round a second time. My
pursuer was now only about thirty yards distant, but it was evident
that his efforts had begun to tell on him. He again shouted out some
breathless advice to the effect that it would be "best" for me to
surrender, but without waiting to argue the point I scrambled up the
bank and cast a hurried, anxious glance round for the dinghy.

Any doubts I might have had about Mr. Gow's trustworthiness were
instantly dispelled. The boat was lying on the mud only a few yards
out of reach of the tide. With a gasp of thankfulness I leaped on
to the saltings, and clearing the distance in about three strides,
clutched hold of the gunwale and began to drag it towards the water.

Just as I reached that desirable element the figure of my pursuer
appeared above the bank. I gave a last savage wrench, but my foot
slipped in the treacherous mud, and I as nearly as possible stumbled
to my knees. That final tug, however, had done the trick. The boat was
floating, and with a wild effort I scrambled in, and seizing an oar,
shoved off furiously from the shore.

I was only just in time. Jumping from the sea-wall, the policeman
fairly hurled himself across the intervening space, and without a
moment's hesitation plunged into the creek after me. I shortened my
oar, and as he made a grab for the stern I suddenly lunged forward
with all the force I could command. The blade took him fair and square
in the wind, and with a loud observation that sounded like "Ouch!" he
sat down abruptly in the water. Before he could recover himself I was
ten yards from the shore, sculling vigorously for the centre of the
stream.

I made no attempt to reach the _Betty_. There was still a dead calm,
and by going on board I should merely have been shutting myself up in
a prison from which there was no escape. My best plan seemed to be to
make for the open river, when I might either pick up McMurtrie and his
launch, or else row across to the opposite shore.

I accordingly headed for the mouth of the creek, wh