nto the shifting wall of fog. Mile after mile he traversed in
silence, stopping at intervals to listen to the faint pulsing of the
boat ahead. At length the gray canopy lifted slowly from the water and
he caught the outline of the _Richard's_ broad hood rising staunchly
above him in the gloom. He smiled grimly at the sight. The motor had not
missed a shot since leaving the island. And they were overhauling the
_Fuor d'Italia_.

He threw the switch again as his eye caught the gleam of the moonlight
ahead. For some moments he listened intently. But only the soft slap of
the waves against the hull of the launch disturbed the stillness.

Mascola had escaped him; had noted the clearing and heard the sound of
pursuit; had doubled back into the fog bank. Anguish took possession of
his heart at the thought as he reached for the switch. But neither
Gregory nor Dickie Lang heard the rasp of the starting mechanism. The
sound was swallowed up in a deafening roar which came from the moonlit
waters ahead.

"Straight ahead," the girl shouted. "I see him."

Gregory had already thrown in the clutch. In a swirl of white water the
_Richard_ raised her head proudly, and snorting angry defiance, raced
across the intervening waves which separated her from her primordial
enemy. Gregory saw the _Fuor d'Italia_ leap forward in the moonlight,
noted that the craft had already changed direction and was heading off
at a tangent, a course which would bring Mascola under cover of the fog
bank.

Veering as sharply as her speed would permit, the _Richard_ dipped like
a gull and sped on to intercept the _Fuor d'Italia_. The shifting bank
of blinding mist hung uncertainly above the shimmering waters less than
half a mile ahead, dead ahead for Mascola, off Gregory's starboard
quarter. For the Italian it meant safety. To his pursuer it spelled
defeat.

The _Richard_ was gaining. Gregory measured the distance with a
calculating eye. He was going to head the Italian off.

"Swing her to port. Catch him on the beam."

Acting at once upon Dickie's advice, Gregory saw the wisdom of it at
once. His angling course would have put him into the fog before the
_Fuor d'Italia_ reached it. Now he would catch Mascola broadside, full
on the beam. Or at least at an angle which would drive the heavier hull
through the lighter one.

With seaman's instinct, Mascola sensed rather than saw the _Richard's_
change of course. If he tried to make the fog he would be cut