the municipal docks Gregory and Hawkins debarked hastily and ran down
the main street of the town. Contrary to the newspaperman's fears they
were successful in finding a young notary in his office. Stimulated by
the promise of an extra fee, the man made out the papers in record time.

"Where can we find the local judge?" Gregory asked quickly.

The notary shook his head.

"Hard telling," he answered. "He went out a while ago with Mr. Rock and
one of the real estate men in this office to look at a piece of
property. Haven't seen Joe back since so I suppose they're still out."

When Gregory arrived at the cannery it lacked ten minutes of being four
o'clock. Hurrying to the office the party from the _Richard_ encountered
McCoy talking with a well-dressed stranger.

"Here's Mr. Gregory now," exclaimed the house-manager running over to
meet his employer. "What luck?" he whispered.

A glance at Gregory's face, however, was all McCoy needed to answer his
question. The boss had failed to stay the attachment. The plant would be
shut down and all the fish from Diablo would rot on the docks.

The visitor stepped forward with a smile and introduced himself. "I'm
Mr. Dalton, of Winfield & Camby," he said pleasantly. "I kind of stole a
march on you people to-day. Came down to inspect at the firm's request
and found you all so busy that I just sneaked into your warehouse and
went to work without saying anything to anybody." He smiled, as he
added: "We kind of like to do that. With a new firm especially. It
prevents them 'stacking' on us."

"Have you finished your inspection?"

Gregory put the question with suppressed eagerness.

Dalton nodded. "Yes," he answered. "I'm well enough satisfied. Your
stuff is fully up to par. Perhaps a little better than some standards.
If you are willing to hold to your schedule of prices which you gave Mr.
Dupont I'm ready to tie up with you right now."

A gleam of hope flashed to Gregory's eye.

"Isn't it customary to make a part payment when the contract is signed?"
he asked.

Dalton smiled and shook his head.

"Ten dollars is enough," he answered.

Gregory's eyes were fixed earnestly on the representative from Winfield
& Camby.

"Listen, Mr. Dalton," he said. "I've got to have twelve hundred and
thirty-five dollars by four o'clock or I'll lose thousands. I've got
fifteen boats outside loaded to the water-line with albacore besides all
the canned stuff on the floor. I own the buildin