urveyed the newcomer with interest.

"He has a boat," he said. "Let's go over and get it."

Blair put out a restraining hand.

"There would be no use," he said. "Mascola wouldn't let us have that
boat to save our lives."

Gregory was already on his way to the Italian dock. Blair started to
overtake him. Then he glanced down the bay and his face brightened.

"Wait," he called. "Here comes one of Lang's boats now. Perhaps they
will know something."

With the approach of the second fishing-boat came a crowd of curious
fishing folk of all nationalities. Men, women and children clustered
about the dock, imbued with a lust for excitement and a morbid desire to
learn the worst from the latest mystery of the sea. All eyes were held
by the fishing-boat as it swung about and drew near the float.

Blair shoved his way through the crowd and led Gregory down the gangway.
Upon the covered hatch of the launch Blair's eye caught sight of two
rolls of canvas, fashioned bundle-like. Nets most likely. He looked
eagerly at the fishermen aboard the incoming craft. Their faces caused
him to look again at the canvas bundles. Then he turned quickly to the
man by his side.

"Why not wait on the wharf until they come up?" he asked in a low voice
in which he strove to conceal his agitation.

Kenneth Gregory shook his head. He too had noticed the bundles on the
hatch.

In silence the launch tied up to the fleet. In silence two bare-footed
fishermen lifted one of the bundles and carrying it carefully between
them, stepped out upon the gently rocking float. The salt-stiffened
canvas unrolled as the men laid their burden down, exposing the body of
a huge fisherman. His face was battered and bruised and Gregory noticed
that his hair was red.

Blair's hand on Gregory's arm tightened.

"Good God!" he exclaimed. "It's Lang."

Kenneth Gregory looked down into the face of the big fisherman. Then he
remembered the other bundle. Blair sought to deter him. But he was too
late to check the onward rush of the young man across the float. Already
he was boarding the boat. Blair watched him raise the flap of canvas.
Saw his eyes searching the folds beneath. At length came voices. A man
was speaking.

"Found them off Diablo. Went on the rocks at Hell-Hole in the fog. Boat
was smashed. Bu'sted clean in two."

Gregory scarcely heard them as he knelt on the hatch looking down into
the face of the one he had traveled seven thousand miles to see.

B