with islands as a woman's throat is girt with
a necklace of beads. Ahead of them stretched untold miles of gently
heaving water. And there, too, blazed two beacons to point the path
for mariners--the Sands Point Light, topping the eastern bluff, and the
fiery eye of Execution Rocks, that reared their jagged pinnacles far
out from the shore, to tear the bottoms of unwary ships.

"We'll go straight north," said the man at the wheel, "for those spies
are without doubt biding their time in some sheltering cove among the
islands over there. And there they will doubtless stay until the hour
to meet their comrade."

He flashed a pocket torch on his watch. "We are in good time," he
said. "We shall get there well before them. Then we shall have to
hide and see what happens."

Straight up the Sound drove the rushing racer, plunging through the
rolling swells, tossing the spray to right and left. Ahead of it
glowed and winked the fiery eyes of the lighthouses. Along either
shore shone innumerable street lamps and the lights of late retiring
householders. Save for themselves the water seemed deserted. The
great steamers that ply between New England and the metropolis had long
since passed and vanished in the misty darkness to the north. No
freighters were breasting the waves, no tugs were puffing along with
strings of barges in their rear. No ferry-boats were crossing. And
none of the legion of sailing craft and motor-boats, none of the
thousands of pleasure yachts that sometimes dot the smiling waters in
the daytime, was abroad. The little secret-service boat seemed to be
alone in that vast expanse of water.

Suddenly the boat careened violently. The boys were alarmed, but their
comrades merely smiled.

"We're turning," explained the man at the wheel. "Now we'll go
straight into the harbor. And it will be just as well if we make less
noise."

He slowed down his engine and the roaring sound died away. The boat
fell off in speed, but still pushed ahead with good momentum. For
perhaps a mile the boat advanced. Then the driver shut off his engine
entirely.

"Those fellows might be in Echo Bay itself," he said. "They couldn't
find a safer place to hide than right among the pleasure craft. We
won't take any chance of being discovered. We'll just glide in like a
shadow and anchor where we can watch things."

He switched over to his electric drive and the boat began to forge
ahead again, but with all the