t the _Pelican_ sewed up tighter than a drum. Looks like
Mascola hasn't tumbled on to the other boat yet."

"Can't tell."

Dickie searched the darkening water intently. Then she observed: "I
don't see Mascola's boat anywhere. Maybe he's cruising the island."

Throttling to the speed of an ordinary fishing craft they approached the
fleet and dodged skilfully among the boats in the direction of the
_Pelican_.

Tom Howard had but little news. He had put to sea from Northwest Harbor
according to orders. Had circled the island and appeared off the east
coast at daybreak as if en route from the mainland. Had stumbled on to a
small school of albacore off Black Point and started fishing. Mascola's
fleet had moved down from Hell-Hole in the early morning. Had "fenced"
him. The Italian's men had been drinking freely all day and had refused
to give him sea-way to get out. Of Mascola himself he had seen but
little. The Italian boss had been down in the morning but had paid
little attention to his men. After boarding but one of his boats he had
returned with the _Fuor d'Italia_ in the direction of the Hell-Hole
Isthmus. He had not been back since.

"Is the _Curlew_ still off Northwest Harbor?" inquired Gregory.

"Don't know. Haven't tried to reach them. Didn't want to wise these
fellows we had anybody else over here. 'Sparks' says they've got a rig
round here somewhere and have been trying to hail somebody all day.
We've been getting a few messages from the boys. Most of them are off
the other side of the island now, waitin' for dark to pass the harbor."

Gregory and Dickie were elated to find the fleet so near. At the same
time both looked worried at the mention of another wireless equipment in
the immediate vicinity.

"I'll bet they're trying to reach that shore-set the boys spotted the
other day," hazarded the girl. She looked at her watch and glanced
toward the towering peaks which cast their shadows far out into the
water. "Well, if they are, we can't stop them," she observed. "What do
you say we start along the north shore with an eye out for fish and
Mascola? Maybe he's already nosing around Northwest Harbor."

Gregory agreed to the girl's suggestion.

"Running slowly will bring us up with the _Curlew_ about dark," he said.
"Let's go."

Climbing again into the _Richard_, Bronson threw in the clutch and the
speed-craft zigzagged her way through the fishing fleet and headed away
from Black Point. At the same time o