Pulling the two prisoners from one boat to the other, they had allowed them to lie down in the bottom, while Dugan, with a skill equal to Nick Carter’s own, had sent his launch full speed toward the wharves and tangle of shipping that one always sees on the water front of Yonkers. It was the multitude of craft of all kinds hiding the wharves that gave the three thugs their advantage. Larry Dugan was unusually skillful in handling the launch, and he had a long start of Nick Carter before the latter could get his launch around, headed for shore. It was broad daylight, but there was a bone-racking fog on the river, and it hid the escaping boat even as it plunged in among the anchored shipping and big lumber barges that stretched for a quarter of a mile, at least. “They can’t be far away,” said Nick, as he pushed his launch along. “Keep a bright lookout, Chick!” “All right!” But the rascals knew this part of the river and the peculiarities of the water front of Yonkers as well as did Nick Carter, and they got clear away. The fog helped them materially. They might never have dodged the pursuing boat otherwise. The detective also knew Yonkers. But, because he did know it, he was quite aware that it would not be so very difficult for Larry Dugan to elude him, especially with the fog to help. “They’ve beaten us, chief!” grumbled Chick, a quarter of an hour later. “They’ve gone along inside this line of barges and shot out at the end. While we have been poking about here, they’ve headed down the river.” “I think you’re right, Chick,” conceded Nick. “They’d hardly go up the river, of course. Well, we’ll go down, too. We’ve lost our prisoners, but I don’t care so much for that if they don’t get hold of Prince Marcos.” “What is all this about Prince Marcos?” asked Chick. “I don’t think I have ever got the story straight, in spite of all I’ve heard.” “It can be told in a few words,” answered Nick. “Prince Marcos is the hereditary ruler of Joyalita, a small monarchy near the Caribbean Sea. He is a decent fellow, from all I’ve seen of him.” “Yes, I understand that,” was Chick’s quiet comment. “Well, there is a party of grafters in Joyalita who would like the country, such as it is, to be annexed to another one adjoining. That would probably throw Prince Marcos out, and his Cousin Miguel who has just got away from us on that boat, would be made provisional ruler.” “I see. Miguel would get Marcos’ job. But what is this about Marcos wanting to get home by the eighteenth?” “If he gets to Joyalita on or before that date, he will be able to use his power to prevent the annexation.” “By a casting vote?” asked Chick. “No. As head of the country and government, he won’t have to vote. His word controls the situation.” “What they call a royal prerogative in Europe, eh?” “Yes.” “And this other citizen in the handcuffs, Don Solado--where does he come in?” “He is prime minister, and he is on the side of Miguel.”