"Well, do what you please with the machine," said Martin Harris. "In the meantime, I'll see what I can do with a lantern and a tin reflector. Sometimes you can see a white sail putty good with a tin reflector."
He hurried to the deck again, and Sam, who was not much interested in electricity, followed him. One of the best of the yacht's lanterns was polished up to the last degree, and they also polished the metal reflector until it shone like a newly coined silver piece.
"That's a good light!" cried Sam, when it was lit up. "Where will you place it?"
"Up at the top of the mast," answered the old sailor. "I'll show you."
It took some time to adjust the lantern just right, but this accomplished they found that they could see for a distance of a hundred yards or more.
"I see the sail!" announced Harris. "Don't you — just over our port bow?"
"I see it," answered Sergeant Brown. "Not very far off either."
Without delay the course of the Searchlight was changed so that she was headed directly for the Flyaway.
"Keep off!" was the cry out of the darkness. "Keep off, or it will be the worse for you!"
"You may as well give up," shouted back the police sergeant. "You are bound to be caught sooner or later."
"We don't think so. If it comes to the worst, remember, we can do a heap of fighting."
"We can fight too," was the grim response.
"Dora! Dora! are you safe?" shouted Sam, with all the strength of his youthful lungs.
"Save me!" came back the cry. "Don't let them carry me further away."
"We'll do our best, don't fear."
Dora wanted to say more, but was prevented from doing so by Mumps, who again hurried her below.
"You must lock her up," he said to Mrs. Goss, and once more the unhappy girl found herself a prisoner in the cabin.
She had hoped for much during the chase along shore, but now her heart sank like a lump of lead and she burst into tears.
"No use of crying," said Mrs. Goss. "It won't help you a bit."
"I want to be free!" sobbed Dora. "Where will they take me?"
"Never mind; you just be quiet and wait."
"But you are running directly out into the ocean!"
"What of that?"
"I don't wish to go."
"You'll have to take what comes, as I told you before."
"Mrs. Goss, have you no pity for me?"
"If I did have it wouldn't do you any good, Miss Dora. I've got to do as the men folks want me to do. If I don't they'll make — "
The woman did not finish what she was saying. A loud report rang out on deck, followed by the distant crash of glass. Then came a yell, followed by another report and more crashing of glassware.
"What can that mean?" burst out Dora, but instead of answering her, Mrs. Goss bounced out of the cabin, locking the door after her, and hurried to the deck.
CHAPTER XXV
A SHOT FROM THE DARKNESS
The shots which had reached Dora's ears had come from a gun in the hands of Arnold Baxter.
The man had been enraged at the sight of the lantern on the mast of the Searchlight, and, taking careful aim, had sent a charge of shot into the affair, smashing globe, reflector, and tin cup, and scattering the oil in all directions.
"Hurrah, I struck it!" shouted Arnold Baxter gleefully. "Now they won't see us quite so plainly."
"Knock out the other lantern, pop," put in Dan Baxter, and the parent turned in the second barrel of the shotgun with equal success.
For an instant the deck of the Searchlight seemed to be in darkness. Sam felt a bit of hot glass strike him on the cheek and raised his hand to brush it off. Then he felt something warm on the back of his leg. Looking down he saw to his horror that some of the oil from the lantern had fallen on him and that it was ablaze!
"Help! help!" he shrieked. "I'm burning up!"
His cry alarmed everybody, and all, even Dick and Tom, came rushing to his aid. But Sergeant Brown was first, and he promptly threw the boy down flat and, whipping off his coat, began to beat out the flames.
Another shot now rang out, aimed at a third lantern, but the light was not struck. By this time Martin Harris made the discovery that the mainsail was on fire in two places, while the jib was also suffering.
"This is getting hot!" he cried, when Carter opened up fire at random, determined to do what he could. A yell and a groan followed, and then all became quiet, and firing on both sides was over.
Fortunately for Sam, the flames upon his person were quickly extinguished, and all the lad really suffered was the ruin of his trousers and an ugly blister on the calf of his leg. But he was badly scared, and when it was over he had almost to be carried to the cabin.
In the meantime Martin Harris procured several pails of water and a long-handled swab and with these did what he could to extinguish the fire on the sails. Several of the others joined in, and inside of ten minutes all danger of a conflagration was past.
"That's the worst yet!" growled the old sailor, as he surveyed the mainsail, which had two holes in it each as large as a barrel. "I'd like to wring the neck of the fellow as did it, yes I would," and he shook his head determinedly.
"That's the end of that light," said Sergeant Brown. "What are you going to do next?"
"I think I can get that searchlight to work," put in Dick. "But will it be of any use? They may start to shooting again."
"We've got to have some kind of a light, even if it's only a tallow candle," grumbled Harris. "If we haven't got a light some coastwise steamer may run us down."
He set to work to rig up a temporary light, and in the meantime Dick returned to the cabin to experiment with the electric light. He found Sam on the couch, bathing his leg with oil to take away the sting of the burn.
"How is it, Sam — hurt much?"
"I suppose it might be worse," was the younger brother's reply. "I wonder who fired that shot?"
"One of the Baxters, more than likely. They are a cold-blooded pair."
"One or more of us might have been killed — if we had been directly behind the lights."
"That is true. I don't suppose Arnold Baxter would care much if we were. He was father's enemy, you must remember, and he said he hated all of us."
Sam resumed his bathing and Dick turned to the cabin table, upon which the battery and other portions of the searchlight rested.
Dick had always been greatly interested in electricity and therefore the parts of the battery before him were not hard for him to understand.
But there was one trouble with the battery which did not reach his eye as he turned it around and started it up. That was that a portion of the insulation of a main wire was worn off.
As he turned on the current there was a flash and the light blazed up almost as bright as day.
"That's fine!" cried Sam. "We'll be able to see the Flyaway a long distance off now."
"Well, I only hope when we put this up it won't be knocked out like the