e direction of the beach.

"My skiff lies close to rocks by the point," he said. "The launch is
close by."

Bandrist fingered his automatic nervously.

"We can wait no longer," he said.

As he spoke he began to crawl forward toward the water.

* * * * *

The blue light from the signal flares flickered about the rock behind
which Mascola had gone into hiding. Gregory reached the shadow, revolver
in hand. Raising his body to his elbow, he leaned forward and looked up.
The space which lay between the rock and the cavern wall was empty. He
was on his feet in an instant. Mascola had escaped. That much was clear.
But how? Surely not through the main entrance to the beach. He would
have no chance that way. The sound of the tumult at the mouth of the
cavern told him that. Neither could the Italian have taken the other
passage. He would have seen him as he passed.

He searched the floor carefully for a possible hiding-place which would
shelter the man he sought. Then he raised his eyes to the cave wall. It
was lined with irregular niches, some of which might be large enough to
hide the body of a man. In the faint glow from the signal flares, he
climbed slowly upward until he felt a cool rush of air fan his cheek.
The air was heavy with fog; laden with the breath of the sea. The cavern
held still another entrance.

Forcing his body through a cleft in the rocks from whence the breeze
came, he found himself in a tunnel-like passage. The dry sticks snapped
beneath his feet as he felt his way through the impenetrable darkness,
stopping at intervals to listen.

That Mascola had preceded him only a few minutes before, he felt
reasonably certain. By the time he reached the end of the passage the
Italian might have gained a place of safety. Why had he not jumped from
the ledge at first sight of his father's murderer? By now it would all
be over. His thoughts turned quickly to Dickie Lang. Perhaps the _Gray
Ghost_ might have come upon the _Richard's_ anchorage in the cove
adjoining the goose-neck. Perhaps the speed-boat had been run down.
Would the girl do as she was told and stay on the launch?

His mind a prey to conflicting thoughts and emotions, Gregory crawled on
through the darkness.

* * * * *

When Bandrist and Mascola reached the _Fuor d'Italia_, the Italian
kicked the dory adrift as the two men climbed aboard. "Pull the hook,"
he cried, "while I start t