“We’re pulling up on her, fellows, whoever she is!”

“She’s the Follow Me,” declared Harry Corwin.  “She must be, or she wouldn’t be running without lights.”

“We’ll know before long,” said Steve.  “I wish the moon would stay out a little longer, though.  Joe, try the searchlight and see if you can pick her up.”

But the craft ahead was a good mile away and the Adventurer’s small searchlight was not powerful enough to bridge that distance with its white glare.  “They’re making for the harbour, anyway,” said Harry Corwin, “and so she can’t get away from us if we lose her now.”  Even as he ended the last pallid rays of the moon vanished and they found themselves in darkness save for the wan radiance of the stars.  Lights unnoticed before sprang up in the gloom along the shore and a dim radiance in the sky showed where the town of Gloucester slumbered.

“If they double on us now we’ll lose them,” muttered Steve.  “Put that light out, Joe.  We can see better without it.”

“How far off is the harbour?” asked Harry.

“About two miles.  You can hear the whistle buoy.  That white light to the left of the red flash is the beacon on the end of the breakwater.”  He moved the helm a trifle and examined the chart.  “There are no rocks, anyway, and that’s a comfort.  I can’t say I like this running at night.  How far away was she when the moon went back on us, Harry?”

“Oh, three-quarters, at a rough guess.”

“Nearer a mile and a quarter, I’d say.  Well, if she doesn’t dodge along shore we’ll have her in the harbour.  Always supposing, that is, that she really is the Follow Me.”

“She can’t be anything else,” answered Harry.  “No sensible skipper would go ploughing around at night without a light.  Hello!  Isn’t that a light there now?”

“Where?  Yes, you’re right!  She’s lighted up at last!  Afraid to go in without lights, I dare say, for fear of arousing suspicion.  I’m getting to believe she is the Follow Me, Harry.”

“I haven’t doubted it once.  Do you suppose she knows we’re after her?”

“She knows we’re here, of course, but she can’t be certain we’re after her.  Still, turning that searchlight on was a sort of give-away.  If she really does go inside it’s just because she’s afraid of her fuel giving out.  We’d better anchor as far out as we can and keep our eyes open until daylight comes.”

“She couldn’t get gas before morning, I guess,” said Joe.  “Looks to me as if, if she is the Follow Me, they’ve run themselves into a trap!”

“Hope so, I’m sure,” said Wink Wheeler.  “If we’ve caught her we’ve certainly been lucky, fellows!”

“Don’t count your chickens until they’re hatched,” advised Ossie.  “Maybe she isn’t the Follow Me at all.”

“I can’t see her light now,” called Phil from the bow.  “Hold on, there’s a green light, I think!  No, I guess I was wrong.  Can’t see anything now, Steve.  Can you?”