be we can rig a fan."

"We won't mind," Jan said swiftly. "When do we start?"

"Right now."

Scotty spoke up. "You said you had a couple of things. What's the
other one?"

"We have to get a look at the barber's machine. I don't know how we'll
do it. But we can figure out something."

In the back of Rick's mind was the thought that the houseboaters might
have moved nearer Whiteside for the purpose of contacting the barber,
as well as to get a better look at traffic between Spindrift and the
mainland. If that were true, they had better hurry.

He had another thought, too. "What time is it?"

Barby consulted her watch. "Five before eight. Why?"

"The barbershop doesn't open until nine. I think it might be useful to
have someone call on the houseboaters and try to pump them a little.
It might be interesting to hear why they chose to anchor in North
Cove."

Barby's eyes got round. "Would you do it?"

Rick shook his head. "It can't be anyone from Spindrift, or from the
police. It has to be someone plausible. I'm thinking of Cap'n Mike."

"Hey, that's just the ticket!" Scotty shook Rick's hand solemnly.
"Cap'n Mike can pretend to be fishing, the way he used to when he was
keeping an eye on Creek House. He could drift over to the houseboat
and ask for a drink of water, or something, and strike up a
conversation. They'd think he was just a typical salty character."

"Then that's how we'll do it. Scotty, suppose you get the binoculars
for Barby, then rig up a fan. I'll go get Cap'n Mike. It won't take
long, and we can have something set before the barbershop opens."

Scotty helped Rick push the plane out from the beach, then collected
the binoculars. Rick warmed the plane and checked the gas. He could
use a few minutes to gas up, too. There was a pier in Seaford where he
could land and get the proper grade of fuel.

He taxied out, headed into the wind, and took off. Then, to confuse
watchers, he headed straight for Whiteside. As he passed over the cove
he saw the houseboat, anchored in the best position for watching the
Spindrift-Whiteside boat course. His mouth was set in a straight line.
Maybe there was no proof, but how much circumstantial evidence was
needed to paint a picture? He was sure the houseboat was a part of
the plot against the project.

Far inland, out of sight of the coast, he swung south, picked up Salt
Creek and followed it to Smugglers' Reef. He turned down the coast
past the town, buzzed Cap