f Smugglers'. You'd
no more crack up on it than I'd fall over my own front porch."

"I told you how it was," the fisherman said tonelessly.

Rick searched his face and liked it. Tom Tyler was perhaps forty, but
he looked ten years younger. His face was burned from wind and sun,
but it was not yet heavily lined. His eyes, gray in color, were clear
and direct as he faced his questioners. He was a tall man; that was
apparent even when he was seated. He had a lean, trim look that
reminded Rick of a clean, seaworthy schooner.

The boy lifted his camera and took a picture. The group turned briefly
as the flash bulb went off. They glared, then turned back to the
fisherman again.

The town policeman spoke. "You know what this means, Tom? You not only
lost your ship, but you're apt to lose your license, too. And you'll
be lucky if the insurance company doesn't charge you with barratry."

"I've told you how it was," Captain Tyler repeated.

The man in the brown suit exploded. "Stop being a dadblasted fool,
Tom! You expect us to swallow a yarn like that? We know you don't
drink. How can you expect us to believe you ran the _Sea Belle_ ashore
while drunk?"

"I got no more to say," Tyler replied woodenly.

Jerry turned to Rick and Scotty and motioned toward the door. Rick led
the way back into the corridor. "Getting anything out of this?" he
asked.

"A little," Jerry said. "Let's go out and talk to that old man."

"Lead on," Scotty said. "I've always wanted to see a real news hound
in action."

Rick dropped the used flash bulb into a convenient ash tray, replaced
it with a new one, and reset the camera. At least he had one good
picture. Tom Tyler, framed by his questioners, had looked somehow like
a thoroughbred animal at bay.

Outside the door, the old man was still whittling. "Get a real scoop,
sonny?" he asked Jerry.

"Sure did," Jerry returned. He leaned against the doorjamb. "I didn't
get your name."

"Didn't give it."

"Will you?"

"Sure. I ain't ashamed. I'm Captain Michael Aloysius Kevin O'Shannon.
Call me Cap'n Mike."

"All right, Cap'n Mike. Is it true Captain Tyler stands to lose his
master's license and may be even charged with deliberately wrecking
the ship?"

"It's true.

"He says he was drunk."

"He wasn't."

"How do you know?"

"I know Tom Tyler."

"Then how did it happen?"

Cap'n Mike rose and clicked his jackknife shut. He tossed away the elm
twig. "You got a car?"

"Yes."

"