you going to do, Frank?” shouted Joe Hardy.

“They’re going after their boats. We know the cove they’re in, and if we can get there first I’ll tow them out to sea. Then they can’t follow us!”

Thus Frank briefly outlined his daring scheme to his brother. He knew that the gangsters would not expect any such intention and he knew as well that only by some action of this kind could he avoid danger of capture. If the gangsters followed in their own boats there was every chance that they might overtake or outmaneuver the Sleuth. Even if they did not, as long as they retained possession of their own motorboats they could make good their escape. But once marooned on the island, they would be at the mercy of the Hardy boys.

“We’ll have to hurry!” said Joe anxiously.

He watched the progress of the flashlights on the shore. The Sleuth was well ahead, but the seizure of the boats would take some time. The gangsters were making their way slowly over the rocks on their way to the cove.

Frank increased the speed of the boat. It leaped through the waves, the motor roaring. The flashlights on the shore were left far behind.

“We’ll make it!” he shouted gleefully to Joe, the spray dashing against his face. He could distinguish the jutting headland that told him the location of the coves.

The men on the shore finally seemed to realize his intention. The boys could now hear frantic shouts as the men called to one another and made desperate efforts to reach the boats. But the Sleuth had outstripped them and they were left stumbling among the rocks along the beach.

The motorboat swept around the headland and into the cove. Frank had switched on the searchlight above the bow, and in its glare he could see the two motorboats belonging to the gang.

It was the work of but a minute to bring the Sleuth alongside, for the craft were riding at anchor. Joe seized a length of rope from the stern, then stood in readiness while his brother brought the Sleuth close to the side of the first craft. He leaped lightly into the other motorboat, lashed one end of the rope to the bow, then returned to the Sleuth again, tying the loose end of the rope securely, so that the motorboat could be towed.

Swiftly, Frank brought his boat around to the bow of the remaining craft, where the process was repeated. Joe snubbed one end of a length of stout rope to the bow, the other to the stern of the next boat. The two craft were now ready to be towed away by the Sleuth.

There was a sharp clattering of rock from among the bluffs near the cove. Then a shout:

“Red! They’re stealing the boats!”

“Head ’em off!” roared another voice frantically from behind. “Don’t let them get away!”

But already the engine of the Sleuth was roaring its message of triumph to the pursuers. Slowly, the motorboat began to make its way out of the cove.

And slowly, the ropes tightened. The two motorboats began moving behind. Joe had raised the anchor in each case and the craft were free to follow the lead boat.

There was a yell of dismay from the shore.

“They’re starting out! They’ve got the boats!”

This was followed by a fusillade of shots. The man on the beach opened fire, and his companion farther back among the rocks did likewise. Bullets whistled past the Sleuth. But, in the darkness, the men on shore could take but indifferent aim. Frank had switched out the headlight and the gangsters could see only a ghostly gray shadow on the water.

The Sleuth picked up speed and the two motorboats behind began to rock and sway as they surged forward. Frank knew that he could not go too fast, otherwise the boats that he was towing would run foul of one another or of his own craft and cause disaster. He contented himself by moving ahead at a moderate rate of speed, knowing well that once he cleared the cove he could afford to snap his fingers at the gangsters marooned on the island.

Shouts interspersed with revolver shots told him of their pursuers’ wrath. The flashlights danced like fireflies. The full extent of the trick that had been played upon them was just beginning to dawn on the men marooned on the shore.

The headland loomed to the side, then slipped slowly by. The motorboat was throbbing its way out to open water.

“We’ve beaten ’em,” declared Frank exultantly.

“I’ll say we have! They’ll never get off that island unless they swim.”

“From the fuss they’re making, they seem to know it, too.”

“Where to now?”

“The mainland. If we can get to Rock Harbor we’ll get help.”

“How about Chet and Biff?” asked Joe soberly.

“We can’t afford to take a chance on bringing them off the island just now. I hate to desert them, but we can’t do anything else. If we went back for them we’d likely undo everything we’ve done so far. But I think they’ll be safe enough. They’ll hide in the bushes. Those fellows have been so busy chasing us that they haven’t had any time to worry about them.”

“Perhaps they think we all got away.”

“If they do they won’t be hunting around for Chet and Biff. In any case, we had the agreement that even if only one of us got away he would come back with help for the rest. They’ll know we’ll be back.”

“So will the gangsters. I’ll bet they’re worrying about how they can clear away from this island before we get back.”

Frank headed the boat for the mainland. It was his intention, as he had said, to make his way to Rock Harbor, where they could secure help⁠—officers and men to come back with them to Blacksnake Island to aid in the rescue of their chums and in the capture of the gangsters.

There was the chance, of course, that the latter might

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