"
In fact, it was plain enough that the pursuer had given up the chase for
the time being. Not only was he out of range of his quarry, but the
long-legged one lacked the wind to keep on on foot.
"Say, what a fool I'd have been, to give up this plunder!" cried Jack,
mockingly. "That chap couldn't catch me; he couldn't hit me. So I've
gotten away with the stuff he was so anxious to have--and which the
Army, I'll bet, would a thousand times rather he didn't have!"
"Now, how am I going to get back to the Army people?" wondered young
Benson, slowing down to a walk, though keeping a vigilant lookout to
the rear. "I don't want to walk something like a million miles to find
a place from which I can get across the bay."
It was desolate country, over here. Jack and the long-legged one, well
to his rear, now, might be the only human beings within some miles. The
outlook was not an encouraging one.
"Say! Wow! Whoop! Blazes!" uttered Captain Jack, suddenly. "Now, I
remember Long-legs! Millard was the name he gave when he came to us, at
Dunhaven, last Fall. He was the chap who wanted to work on the submarine
construction.
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