ers closed over
his head. The Italian struggled fiercely to free his right arm as he
felt his body sinking deeper into the water. Then he noticed that his
antagonist had freed his legs and was moving them slowly upward to his
stomach.

Locking his knees about Mascola's waist-line in a scissors-grip, Gregory
began to squeeze. Lashing the water with his feet the Italian jerked his
head backward and forced it against Gregory's chin. Then he freed his
left arm and the fingers slid upward to his enemy's throat.

Under the steady pressure of the sturdy legs about his waist Mascola
felt his strength going from him. With bursting lungs he tore at the
corded muscles of Gregory's throat. But his fingers had but little
power. Sharp pains seared his eyeballs. A deadly numbness was creeping
over his entire body. Then he felt the hand which held his knife arm
twist the wrist and forced it inward to his body.

Mascola writhed in terror. By a powerful effort he squirmed sidewise and
checked the onward course of the knife as it came nearer to his side.
The exertion sent the blood pounding to his temples, left him weak with
nausea. For an instant his hold on Gregory's throat relaxed. Then his
fingers dug viciously into the flesh as he felt his wrist being crowded
closer to his body.

The point of the dagger was scratching at his shirt. In another second
it would be piercing his side. Mascola knew that the blade was sharp.
The Italian released his grip on Gregory's throat. With a convulsive
shudder he dropped his knife. He was beaten. At the mercy of his enemy.
Better take chances with the courts than sure death at the hand of
Kenneth Gregory.

Gregory felt the muscles of the Italian relax in a token of submission.
For an instant his heart rebelled at the turn of the battle in his
favor. Why not strangle Mascola beneath the surface? Who would ever
know? The Italian had shown his father no mercy.

Why didn't Mascola fight like a man?

Gregory's fingers reached the Italian's throat. The law of the sea knew
no mercy.

* * * * *

A feeling of utter helplessness seized Dickie Lang as she stared into
the moonlit waters. The man she loved was battling for his life beneath
the surface of the shimmering waves. And she could do nothing.

"God bring him up safe." She repeated the words again and again. Then a
new fear assailed her.

Kenneth Gregory would never give up. If he came up at all there would be