it. But there's a place to tie up. You'll
see it in a minute."

As the captain had said, there was a small dock in front of the
windmill. Rick headed the launch for it and in a short time they were
tied up. Behind the mill, which was an old ruin that had been used a
half century before for grinding meal, was the road leading south from
Seaford. Across the road was a weather-beaten fisherman's shack.

Cap'n Mike pushed the door open. "It ain't no palace," he said, "but
it's home and I'm proud to welcome you. Come on in."

Inside, Rick stared around him with appreciative surprise. The little
shanty was as neat and efficient as a ship's cabin. On one side was a
tiny galley with everything neatly stowed. On the other was a built-in
bunk. The walls had been papered with old charts, and he saw that
most of them were of the New York-New Jersey area. A ship's lantern,
wired for electricity, hung so low that it almost brushed Scotty's
head. Ship models lined the mantel.

Cap'n Mike was already at work in the galley. With no waste motion he
produced a coffeepot, filled it with water, dumped in a handful of
coffee and put it on the stove. He whisked a match across the seat of
his pants and lit the kerosene. Then he produced a paper bag, shook in
flour, salt and pepper, dumped in the fish and closed the bag, shaking
it violently a few times with one hand while he produced a frying pan
with the other. In a moment the pan was full of frying fish. A
breadbox yielded a loaf of homemade bread.

Before Rick and Scotty quite realized that lunch was ready, he had
them seated at a table that folded down from the wall, with a smoking
platter of fillets in front of them.

"Eat," he commanded.

Rick was no fish fancier, but he had to admit that this was delicious.
And the coffee, in spite of the apparent carelessness with which it
had been made, was the best ever.

When the last drop had been consumed, Cap'n Mike pushed back his
chair. "Let's get down to brass tacks," he said. "Do you go along with
me or not?"

Rick dropped into the idiom of the sea. "I like to know the course
before I haul anchor."

Cap'n Mike chuckled. "Didn't expect caution or wisdom from you."

Scotty grinned. "Don't worry. He's neither cautious nor wise. He can't
wait to get started and neither can I. But Rick's right. We have to
know the whole story."

"Right. Well, there isn't much. Something's been going on in Seaford.
Don't ask me what, because I don't