Jack had seen the same object that had given George such a start. Across the white path of illumination thrown forward by the powerful little acetylene searchlight, a shadowy, moving thing suddenly appeared.

It was a sailboat, beating up against a head wind, and aiming to reach its home port while the possibility of moonlight lasted.

Whatever tempted the man at the tiller to try and cross between the swift moving motor boats no one might ever know. But it was the nearest to a collision, without an actual calamity, Jack had ever experienced.

He instinctively understood that the only thing that would prevent the Wireless from plunging into the luckless sailboat would be a prompt reversal on the part of the skipper at the wheel. And such an action was apt to endanger the working abilities of the Wireless’ engine, never too trustworthy under a strain.

Had George failed, Jack stood ready to butt in and execute the speed maneuver; for this was a case that would admit of no ceremony. Life and death might be in the balance.

But, fortunately, George kept his head. He instantly did what was necessary, and the tremendous forward movement of the rushing speed boat was instantly checked.

Indeed, so astonishing was the change that the government agent came near plunging headlong over the rail into the river. Jack stretched out a hand and caught him just in time. As for the Indian, he sprawled on all fours in the bottom of the craft, trying to keep his head from bumping against some obstacle.

But Jack was delighted to see that the engine had actually redeemed itself; for it still continued to work at the old stand.

The adventurous sailboat glided out of the way, so close that the sharp bow of the Wireless almost touched the boom that was hauled well in during the tacking process. A couple of white, scared faces could be seen for two seconds; and then the sailboat was engulfed in the shadows that lay on either side, out beyond range of that searchlight radius.

“Bully for her!” gulped George, almost unable to articulate under the tremendous strain, yet thinking only of the able work of his engine.

“Speed her up again, George; but not with a rush!” called Jack.

Looking ahead he saw that, just as he expected, the Flash had managed to take advantage of the momentary detention of her rival, and increased the distance separating them.

“That was tough luck!” said the government agent; “but I owe you thanks for saving me from a wet jacket, my boy.”

“I guess we’re fortunate not to have smashed into that silly crowd, and played hob with everything,” Jack remarked.

“But look where they are,” groaned the anxious George. “Just about as far ahead as in the start; and it’s all got to be done over again. Oh; what fools some men are when they get in a boat. All they had to do was to come up in the wind till the procession passed. Instead, they tried to butt in, and came near spoiling the whole game. What shall we do, Jack?”

“Do you want me to say what I’d do if this was my boat?” asked the other.

“Sure I do,” George spoke up. “They’ve got some clever trick ahead, and may lose us yet. You notice that they hardly make any noise, even while the muffler isn’t working. That boat was just made for a smuggler, or a pirate. But go on, Jack, tell me.”

“All right,” said the other. “You see how well your engine is going. She’s had all the freak rubbed off her, I guess, and is now buckling right down to business. And honestly, George, I believe you can trust her with that reserve notch of speed! I’d try it, if I were you.”

“Now, I’m glad to hear you say that, Jack,” exclaimed the skipper, eagerly. “For during that other trip my engine played so many pranks that she got a black eye among my chums. If so be she’s settled down to a steady stage, the sooner I know it the better. I’ll be delighted to find it out. So here goes. Steady, all; hold on tight!”

The government agent, not knowing what to expect, for they were as near flying now as he ever expected to get, thought the policy of his crafty Indian helper worth imitating. So he simply dropped down in the body of the boat and braced himself against a shock.

But there was none. When George applied that last little reserve bit of power a slight jump forward resulted; and then after that the only difference seemed to be that they drew up on the fugitive Flash hand over hand.

George was nearly wild with delight. To him the fact that his cranky engine had finally determined to be good and do the duty which her makers had meant she should, far outweighed all else. So far as he was concerned it did not matter much whether the three men in the Flash were captured or not; but it was an affair of exceeding importance that the good, reliable old Wireless should overhaul its rival in this masterly manner.

“See her hump herself, Jack!” he ejaculated, as he balanced himself in the swaying craft, and peered eagerly ahead toward the other boat. “Ain’t she coming up nobly, though? Talk to me about the Flash making circles around us; why, she ain’t in the same class with this same old Wireless. Oh! but this pays me for all the troubles I’ve had in the past. I can hardly keep from yelling, Jack!”

“Better quit that monkey business, then,” cautioned the other. “You need all your wind and eyesight and everything else right now in handling such a greyhound.”

That just about finished George.

“Thank you, Jack, for giving her that fine name. But she deserves it,” he said. “I understand what you mean; and, believe me, I’ll try to hold my spirits in check until the game is won. I’d hate to have any accident happen now, I tell you.”

And he did buckle down to business with new determination and grit, grasping the vibrating wheel with all his strength, and watching to see just what the tricky skipper of that other craft might do. For George knew Clarence only too well, nor would he put anything past the other when it came down to cunning.

They were now so close that it was easy to see everything taking place on board the fleeing Flash. Clarence was at the wheel, and several figures crouched along either side, evidently holding on for dear life. One was in the stern, and Jack had little difficulty in making him out as the tall man he had first seen in the old cabin, and whom the agent had called Glenwood.

“Looks like we would run alongside in less than five minutes, sir,” observed George, trying to steady his voice, but hardly succeeding, for his nerves were tingling in a manner he had seldom if ever experienced before.

“Keep just a little to the left, then,” answered the agent. “And watch out, for it is barely possible they may try to foul us at the last, hoping to escape in the confusion.”

Jack was changing his mind now about that same thing. He had an idea that perhaps Clarence had played a trick on the men who held him in custody; he may not have let out all the speed of which the Flash was capable. Besides, now that the race seemed virtually over, and the Wireless had proven the superior why should he want to bring about a collision that would wreck both boats, as well as endanger the lives of all the occupants?

“Steady, George, steady!” Jack cautioned, as he thought he saw a slight change in the course taken by the boat ahead.

“Duck down, boys; he’s going to try and scare us by firing!” suddenly said the keen-eyed government agent.

Even George managed to partly drop, so as to be shielded by the forward deck. And that the revenue man had guessed correctly was made evident when there broke out the sharp report of a revolver. Jack even believed he could hear the peculiar whine of the flying bullet as it passed over the boat.

“Stay where you are!” cried the agent; “that was only one. He’s got a few more of the same kind to follow!”

There came other shots in rapid succession. Really, it would not be surprising if George lost his head under such circumstances, for usually it takes a veteran to preserve his coolness under fire. But, singular to state, the nervous one of the motor boys now proved that he could shut his teeth together and hold on tenaciously with bulldog courage.

The Wireless may have wavered just a little, but still kept swiftly on, diminishing the narrow lead of her rival with constant rapidity and steadiness.

“That’s all!” called the revenue man, as the sixth shot sounded; and every one felt a perceptible thud, telling that this time the desperate smuggler had lowered his aim, and that the bullet had struck the boat somewhere. “And as it’s a poor rule that won’t work both ways, perhaps I can have a little better luck in scaring some one. Watch out, George, and be ready to stop short if he does!”

With that he threw out his arm, and instantly there was a flash and a report.

“Oh!” exclaimed George, startled in spite of the warning.

Jack’s heart was fluttering with excitement. He also felt something like regret that Clarence was there in line with the fire. Though the agent might be only seeking to frighten the boy at the wheel of the Flash, still something serious was apt to happen. Jack wished in his soul that it was all over and nobody injured.

The Flash began to wabble badly, showing that Clarence was trying to shield himself from the battery in the rear, something which he would find it hard to do.

Jack stood ready to lend a hand in case of an emergency that George might seem unable to manage alone.

And it was right at that critical moment, just when light was needed most of all, that the fickle moon shot out from behind the bank of clouds, illuminating the surface of the broad St. Lawrence, dotted still with islands, upon which in many cases cottages could be seen.

Jack thought that was a good omen; but there was no time to spend in reflection. Another sharp report close to his ear told that the revenue man believed in following up a good thing. He knew that Clarence was on the point of surrender, and intended to strike while the iron was hot.

“Look out, George!”

Jack shouted this warning in the ear of his chum, for the leading motor boat had suddenly slackened her speed, the quick pulsation of her engine having ceased to beat upon the air.

Instantly the motor of the Wireless followed suit; and driven forward by the impetus of her “push,” she shot alongside the other craft, not three feet away.

Jack breathed easier, for he saw now that a collision was not to follow. The nerve of Clarence had possibly failed him at the climax; and his last move had been to stop his engine, before dropping flat in the bottom of his boat.

“Over into her, John! We must make prisoners here!” shouted the agent, as he balanced on the rail of the Wireless, and in so doing almost brought that side of the narrow-beam boat awash.

“There he goes, sir!” called Jack.

A big splash followed, as a figure sprang from the opposite side of the other boat. Evidently the desperate smuggler, as a last resort, had taken to the water, in the hope that he might yet baffle his pursuers, and escape to the Canada shore.

Jack had snatched up a boathook with a brass knobbed end. This he fastened to the rail of the Flash, and exerting all his strength, began to draw the two boats closer together, so that the revenue agent and his assistant might make the transfer safely.

He saw them leap across, and felt the boat rock violently under the strain; but not for an instant did he let go his hold. There was something of a rumpus going on aboard the Flash, as though the government men might be struggling with the two smugglers whom they found there, lacking in nerve to follow after their leader, or else not knowing how to swim. But in another minute these sounds ceased, from which he guessed that the pair had been subdued.