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had turned off the light proper, consequently the way to the companionway was rather dark.

      He had almost reached the top of the steps when Sam heard a scream, saw a flash of fire, and then Dick came tumbling to the cabin floor in a heap, with the battery and light beside him.

      "My gracious, he's been shocked!" burst out the youngest Rover; and, forgetting all about his burn, ran to his brother's assistance.

      "What's that noise?" came from the deck.

      "Dick's been shocked by the searchlight!" cried Sam. "Come down here, somebody, and let us see what we can do for him."

      "Shocked, is it!" cried Sergeant Brown. "If that's the case, look out that somebody else don't catch it."

      Tom came tumbling down, followed by both police officers, and Dick was picked up and deposited on the couch. Then Sam kicked the searchlight and batteries into a corner.

      "They can stay there for all I care," said he. "They are too dangerous, unless a chap knows just how to handle them."

      Dick lay with his eyes wide open, but unable to move. Tom bent down and announced that his heart was still beating.

      But little in the way of restoratives were at hand, and the most they could do was to rub the youth's body in an attempt to restore the circulation.

      "Oh, I hope he isn't permanently injured!" cried Tom. "If he should turn out a cripple it would be awful!"

      "That's so," answered Sam. "Poor Dick! He's as bad off as if those rascals had shot him!"

      Slowly Dick came to his senses. But he was very weak, and soon he discovered that he was powerless to move his left arm.

      "It's all numb," he announced. "It feels as if it was dead."

      "Let me shake it for you," said Tom, and both brothers went to work, but with small success. The arm hung down as limp as a rag, and the left leg was nearly as badly off, although Dick said he could feel a slight sensation in it, like so many needles sticking him.

      "You see, I've been afraid of that battery right along," said Martin Harris. "The professor got shocked once, and he limped around for a long while after."

      "But he got over it at last, didn't he?" questioned Tom eagerly.

      "I can't say about that. He went off, and I haven't seen him since," was the unsatisfactory reply.

      The injuries to Dick and to Sam had somewhat dampened Tom's ardor, and he wondered what they had best do next, and spoke to the police officers about it.

      "I don't know of anything but to turn back to shore," said Sergeant Brown. "We've lost them in the dark, and that is all there is to it. If we go ashore we can send out an alarm, and as soon as the Flyaway is spotted, somebody will go out and arrest everybody on board — I mean everybody but the young lady, of course."

      "But they may come ashore in the dark."

      "And they may do that even if we stay out here and then they'll have more of an advantage than ever. No, I think the best thing we can do is to turn back to the coast and make the safest landing we can find."

      When Dick heard of this, however, he shook his head. "Don't go back yet," he pleaded. "See if you can't make out the Flyaway somewhere. She won't dare to sail very far without a light."

      "I don't go for giving up just yet," put in Martin Harris. "As the lad says, she'll show a light very soon now for there is a coastwise steamer a-coming," and he pointed in the direction of Sandy Hook.

      He was right, and soon the many lights from the big steam vessel could be plainly seen. She was heading almost directly for them, but presently steered to the eastward.

      "She must be almost in the track of the Flyaway," went on Martin Harris. "Just wait and see if I aint right."

      All waited and watched eagerly, and thus five minutes passed. Then from a distance they saw a light flash up.

      "There she is!" cried Tom. "Let us head for her at once. They won't keep that light out long — just long enough to let that steamer go by."

      Martin Harris was already at the tiller, and soon the Searchlight was thrown over and was again dipping her nose in the long ocean swells. The wind had died away only to freshen more than ever, and the chase now became a lively one.

      The enemy seemed to know that the exposure of their light had given those on the Searchlight the cue, and they were sailing as rapidly as all of their canvas permitted. But Harris was now handling his craft better than ever before, and slowly but surely the distance between the two craft was diminished, until the Flyaway could be made out faintly even without a light.

      "Don't lose her again," said Dick. "We must keep at it until we run them down completely." And Harris promised to do his best.

      It was now past midnight, and the police officers said they were tired out and dropped into the cabin to take a nap. Dick likewise remained below, trying to get up some circulation in the lamed arm.

      "Can't you feel anything?" queried Tom.

      "I think I can," answered his big brother. "Yes, yes, it's coming now!" he went on. "Thank God!" and he suddenly raised the arm and bent the fingers of his hand. By daylight that member of his body was nearly as well as ever. But this experience was one which Dick has not forgotten to the present day.

      Sam had bound up his burn with a rag saturated with oil and flour, and announced that he felt quite comfortable. "But just let me get hold of those Baxters," he added. "I shan't stand on any ceremony with them."

      "I don't believe any of us will," said Tom. "But as anxious as I am to have this over, I would just as lief have the chase last until morning. Then we'll be better able to see what we are doing."

      "Or trying to do," said Sam with a faint smile.

      CHAPTER XXVI

       A FLAG OF TRUCE

       Table of Contents

      Sunrise found the two yachts far out on the ocean with land nowhere in sight. The breeze was still stiff, but it was not as heavy as it had been, and Martin Harris was unable to decrease the space which separated his own craft from that of the enemy.

      "You see, the Searchlight is the better boat in a strong blow," he explained. "When the wind is light the Flyaway has as good a chance of making headway as we have."

      "Well, one thing is certain," said Tom. "This chase can't last forever."

      "It may last longer than you imagine, lad."

      "Hardly. We haven't more than enough provisions aboard to last over to-day."

      "Perhaps the other boat is even worse off," said Sergeant Brown hopefully. "If that's the case we'll starve them out."

      "I don't care what we do, so long as we rescue Dora and get that stolen fortune," said Dick, as he dragged himself to the crowd, followed by Sam.

      "And how's Sam?" questioned Tom, turning to his younger brother.

      "Oh, I'm all right — if it comes to fighting."

      "And you, Dick?"

      "I think I can do something — at least, I am willing to try."

      Breakfast — a rather scant meal — had just been disposed of, when Martin Harris uttered a shout.

      "They want to do some talking," he announced.

      "Why, what do you mean?" asked Dick.

      "They are hoisting a white rag."

      "Sure enough!" ejaculated Tom, as he pointed to a flag of truce which Dan Baxter was holding aloft, fastened to an oar. "What do you make of that?"

      "They want to make terms," laughed Sergeant Brown. "I reckon things

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