r though
them. If you had a skillet hot on the coals and threw in a handful of
grunion you could never have a finer dish. But they won't hardly keep
over night. For that reason they are good for nothing, commercially."

She paused abruptly and listened. "I thought I heard some one calling,"
she said.

Turning about they saw three men standing by the fire.

"Maybe it's some word from the boys," Gregory exclaimed. "Let's go and
see."

At the fireside they came upon Hawkins with two strangers, whom he
introduced as brothers of his craft. Drawing Gregory aside while Dickie
conversed with Slade and Billings, he said:

"Listen, Cap. I want a boat and a man to run it who knows Diablo from
the water-line up. I'm on the trail of the biggest kind of a scoop. I
can't give you all the dope but I can tell you a few things that will
open your eyes."

The two men drew farther into the shadows and conferred in low-pitched
voices, broken now and then by Gregory's muttered exclamations. While
they talked one of the night men from the cannery hurried on to the
scene.

"Message for Mr. Gregory," he called.

Gregory took the message and drew nearer the coals. In the red glow of
the fire, he read:

From: Launch _Snipe_

At Sea. Five miles off Hell-Hole.

Got into fight with Mascola about an hour ago. His boats
drove ours from island. His men drunk and armed with
shotguns. Some of boys pretty well filled up. _Curlew_
lagged with engine trouble and was cut in two off
Hell-Hole Isthmus. Sunk in five minutes by some big
boat, running dark. _Albatross_ picked up crew. All
saved. Wire what to do. Twelve boats here. Others at
Cavalan for repairs.

Jones.

Dickie's eyes shone angrily at the message. "Damn them!" she cried.
"They got my _Curlew_." Grasping Gregory's arm, she exclaimed: "There's
a bunch of the fleet off San Anselmo on the mainland side. There's some
more a few miles down the coast from Cavalan. They can all make Diablo
in two hours if you wire them right away. We can go over in the
_Richard_ and round them up and smash Mascola's whole fleet. What if
they have shotguns? We have rifles. Come on. What are you waiting for?"

Dickie Lang was breathless. Her cheeks glowed. Her eyes were shining.

Gregory shook his head slowly and looked at Hawkins.

"The _Gray Ghost_ ran the _Curlew_ down about an hour a