hed the tip of the island and headed shoreward. Rounding Devil's
Point they came in full view of the glimmering lights of the fishing
fleet.

"Looks like home," commented Dickie. "Wonder how long the boys have been
there." She checked up the lights rapidly, then announced: "They're all
there but one. Probably the supply-boat. She isn't due yet. That's
pretty quick work I'd say."

Hailing the first of his fishing-boats, they learned that the voyage
from the mainland had been without incident. The albacore were thick
about the island. They were keeping the fish around with live bait. All
of the fishermen predicted a record haul.

Proceeding to the _Curlew_, Bronson tied the _Richard_ alongside and the
party from the speed-launch climbed aboard. Then the girl conferred with
Gregory and plans for the night were formulated. The fleet would lay at
anchor with every motor in instant readiness to get the respective
vessels under way at a given signal. The men would alternate on an
anchor watch and keep the fish "chummed" up during the night. Those who
were off duty would get their needed rest and make no unnecessary noise.
No vessel was to move from her anchorage without permission from the
_Curlew_. Fishing would begin at daybreak.

With preparations completed for the night, Gregory's party made
themselves comfortable aboard the _Curlew_. A message was despatched to
the _Pelican_ instructing Howard to join the fleet shortly after
midnight. And the cannery was notified of the safe arrival of the boats
at the island.

After supper Hawkins clung tenaciously to Bronson and the two men
retired to the bow and conversed in low tones. Gregory sat with Dickie
Lang in the stern and for some time puffed at his pipe in silence. The
yellow rays which issued from the fresneled glass light on the mast-head
fell full upon the girl's figure and Gregory saw that her eyes were
fixed on the dark outlines of the coast.

"What do you make of Mascola?"

Dickie shook her head. "I don't know," she answered. "He has me guessing
right now. I can't understand why he's been hanging round Hell-Hole all
day and hasn't tumbled on to the _Curlew_. He seems to have forgotten
his boats entirely."

"I have an idea he has," Gregory answered. "Sometimes I think that
perhaps fishing is only a small part of Mascola's business. We both know
he hasn't made much with his boats in the last few months, yet Bronson
says he's having twenty new launches built at P