equiring a high degree of co-ordination between body and mind.

Rick walked to meet him. "What kept you?"

Scotty climbed out and they staked the plane down. "Jerry picked me up
on the way to the airport. We talked for a while. He had the film and
was taking it into New York."

Both of them walked with less spring in their steps than usual.
Knowing that nothing was in sight but waiting was a letdown after the
activity of the predawn hours. But Captain Douglas had spoken and that
was that.

"Wonder if we'll ever be able to prove that the Kelsos wrecked the
_Sea Belle_?" Rick mused. "Even if the police catch them cold on a
smuggling charge that won't necessarily tie them up with Captain
Tyler."

"That's right." Scotty bent and plucked a sprig of mint from the patch
next to the house and chewed it absently. "But we'll be able to show
motive and method once they're in jail and Tyler can talk. And with
Captain Killian's evidence, that will clear Tyler anyway. Why should
we worry whether the Kelsos get caught for that as long as he's
cleared? We'll have them on the smuggling charge."

"I guess so." Rick felt tired. "How about a quick swim? Then we can
crawl into bed and take a nap."

"Good idea. What are we waiting for?"

The water was too good to abandon after a few quick dips, however, and
they alternately swam and lazed in the sun until lunchtime. Only after
a good lunch of several sandwiches and almost a quart of milk apiece
did they feel like taking a nap. Then Rick said, "No word. I guess
that does it. Either Brad is ignoring our flying over him or he has
dumped his cargo. I'd like to know which. Otherwise, he would have put
into Creek House long ago."

"Looks that way. But I'm too drowsy to care. Go on to bed and let me
do likewise. We'll know soon enough what happened."

Rick undressed, drew his shades and crawled in, luxuriating in the
comfort of cool sheets. But it wasn't easy to drop off to sleep. His
active mind persisted in going over and over the events at Seaford
like a record stuck in a groove, but after a while he slept.

He didn't even hear the phone when it rang. Scotty had to wake him.
Then, drowsily, he and Scotty went down the hall.

"It's Mr. Barrows," Mrs. Brant called from below.

"I'll take it," Rick said. He picked up the phone. "This is Rick,
Duke."

"Bad news," the editor said. "It's all over, and nothing came out of
it."

Rick woke up sharply. "What? But, Duke, we saw them loa