to see past the fence.

"Maybe you didn't," the old captain conceded. "But you sure saw
somebody, and it had to be Kelso or that boy of his."

"Why do they want so much privacy?" Scotty demanded.

Cap'n Mike ignored the question. "You really got any fishing gear in
that launch?"

"Hand lines," Rick said.

"That's good as anything. Now, I always say a man can't think proper
in a mob like this. Too distracting. So let's go fishing and do some
thinking. What say?"

Rick's glance met Scotty's. Cap'n Mike had his own way of doing
things. They had nothing to lose by humoring him.

"Let's go," Scotty said.

As they passed the wreck, Rick stopped for a moment to look at it
again. The air was even heavier than the night before with the reek of
dead fish. They were scattered along the reef in shoals ten feet wide.
By daylight he could see that the trawler was finished. She had broken
her back and torn out a good part of her bottom. She must have been
really making knots to hit like that.

"Cap'n, exactly what was the weather like when Tom Tyler hit?" Rick
asked.

"Not bad. Visibility might have been less than real perfect, but it
wouldn't have interfered with him seeing the light."

"Would it have interfered with him seeing the reef if the light had
been out?"

"I reckon it would. Until he was right on it, anyway."

Rick turned the information over in his mind. "Were any other trawlers
out last night?"

"Plenty. The _Sea Belle_ was first in, but the rest were right behind.
The light was burning, all right. I thought of that, too, son."

"My name is Rick Brant. This is Don Scott. We call him Scotty."

"Knew you both," Cap'n Mike said. "I subscribe to the paper your
friend writes for. Seen your pictures couple of times. Didn't you just
get back from somewhere?"

"The South Pacific," Scotty said.

"Used to sail those waters. Reckon things have changed some."

"The war changed the islands," Scotty told him. "Especially...." he
stopped suddenly and took Rick's arm. "Look."

The elder Kelso was standing in front of the launch.

"What do you suppose he's after?" Rick asked.

Before Scotty or Cap'n Mike could think up an answer, Kelso turned and
walked back along the beach. There was a foot or two of space between
the water of the creek and the hotel fence. The redheaded man slipped
through it and vanished from sight.

"I'll bet he came out just to look the boat over," Scotty guessed,
"and there's only one