ations, groans.

Joe waited for the veil to lift, staring with straining eyes, cursing
softly. _Los Senores_ were being murdered before his eyes and he could
do nothing. Through a rift in the fog he saw Gregory with his back to
the cliff fighting back the savage horde which were pressing hard upon
him. He was using his rifle as a club. The men were falling away from
him. Lang had cleared the way to the skiff; was almost at his
companion's side.

From the overhanging ledge above, two dark figures leaped suddenly upon
the man beneath, wrenching his gun from his hand, crushing him to the
sand. Lang fell upon the group of struggling figures, fighting like a
madman. Then he staggered, dropped to his knees and went down before the
onslaught.

Again the gray pall drifted down from the tall crags above and blotted
out the scene.

Joe staggered to his feet, grasping the wire-stays for support. Then he
stiffened and stood listening. The muffled purr of a high-powered motor
disturbed the silence. From out the gloom to starboard he saw the bow of
a big motor-boat cut the fog. The Mexican shrieked a warning and
tightened his clutch on the stays.

The strange craft veered, the sharp bow swung over. With wide-open
engines, she struck the _Sea Gull_ amidships, full on the beam. Hurled
to the deck by the impact the Mexican heard the snapping and grinding of
timbers. He was conscious of falling and the cool rush of waters about
his head. Then he remembered no more.

Wrapped in a clinging mantle of filmy fog, rock-bound, grim and
mysterious, the Island of El Diablo frowned at the sea from behind the
veil of silence. Brave men had sought to fathom her secret but she had
guarded it well.

CHAPTER II

JETSAM OF THE SEA

John Blair was worried. Every line of his face, every movement of his
nervous body showed it. He turned quickly to the bare-footed fisherman
who blocked the doorway.

"You combed the beach, you say? How far?"

"San Lucas to Port Angeles."

"No signs of wreckage; nothing?"

The fisherman shook his head.

Blair was silent for a moment. Then he asked: "How far out to sea did
you go?"

"About three miles, 'Dog-face' Jones's workin' out San Anselmo way. Big
Jack left last night for Diablo."

Blair started. "Diablo," he repeated. "They surely wouldn't have gone
out there."

Before the fisherman could reply there came an interruption. The door
opened quickly and a young man strode into the room.

"