ur way." Jerry hung up. "Have to work fast,"
he said. "We start printing the paper at midnight."

"It's nine now," Scotty said.

Rick ran upstairs and opened the case containing his speed graphic,
checking to be sure he had film packs and bulbs, then he snapped the
case shut and hurried downstairs with it. Jerry and Scotty were
waiting at the door.

"Don't stay out too late," Mrs. Brant admonished.

Dismal whined to be taken along.

"Sorry, boy." Rick patted the pup. "We'll be home early, Mom. Want to
come along, Dad?"

"Not tonight, thanks," the scientist replied. "I'll take advantage of
the quiet to catch up on my reading."

In a moment the three boys were hurrying toward the hook-shaped cove
in which the motorboats were tied up. Although Spindrift Island was
connected to the mainland at low tide by a rocky tidal flat, there was
no way for a car to cross. The cove was reached by a flight of stairs
leading down from the north side of the island. Elsewhere, the island
dropped away in cliffs of varying heights and steepness to the
Atlantic.

They ran down the stairs and got into the fastest of the two boats, a
slim speedboat built for eight passengers. Rick handed Scotty his
camera case and slid in behind the wheel. While Jerry cast off, he
started the engine and warmed it for a moment. Then as Jerry pushed
the craft away from the pier, he backed out expertly, spun the boat
around, and roared off in the direction of the Whiteside landing.

"Let's have the story," Scotty shouted above the engine's roar.

"A fishing trawler from Seaford ran aground," Jerry shouted in reply.
"Duke figures it's an unusual story because those skippers have been
going out of Seaford for a hundred years without an accident. There's
no reason why one of them should run onto well-charted ground in clear
weather."

Scotty squinted at the sky. "It's not exactly clear weather. There's a
moon just coming up, but it's kind of hazy out."

"Yes, but you couldn't call it bad weather, either," Jerry pointed
out. "Not from a seaman's viewpoint, anyway."

"Where did this trawler run aground?" Rick asked.

"Arm of land that extends out into the sea above Seaford," Jerry
replied. "It's called Smugglers' Reef."

CHAPTER II

Cap'n Mike

Jerry's car was an old sedan that had seen better days, but it could
still cover ground at a good speed. The macadam highway unrolled
before the bright head lamps at a steady rate while the beams