ing at Creek House just to be sociable. "Were these calls made
at regular intervals?" he asked.

"Nope. One was two weeks ago, one was four nights ago, and the last
time was night before last."

"Wasn't four nights ago the night you saw Tom Tyler at Creek House?"
Scotty recalled.

"It was. That's one reason why I'm sure the _Albatross_ is tied up
with the wreck of the _Sea Belle_."

Rick searched for possible reasons why the trawler should tie up at
Creek House and rejected all but one. He had the beginnings of an
idea, but he needed to think about it a little more before he broached
it.

"Cap'n, you've been keeping an eye on the Kelsos for quite a while,
sounds like," Rick said. "Do they ever have any visitors?"

"Haven't seen any."

"No trucks?" Rick asked.

"Haven't seen any."

They were approaching the big, shedlike fish pier. It was brilliantly
lighted. At Cap'n Mike's direction, Rick pulled off the street and
parked.

"What happens to the menhaden after they're unloaded?" Scotty wanted
to know.

"Ever notice that one-story building next to the pier? Well, they go
into that on conveyer belts. Then the oil is cooked out of them and
what's left is turned into feed or fertilizer. You'd know if you'd
ever been here while the plant was processing and the wind was
inshore. Dangdest smell you ever smelled. Like to ruin your nose."

Rick sniffed the fishy air. "I believe it," he said.

Cap'n Mike had been leading the way toward the big pier. Now he turned
onto the pier itself. Some trawlers already were tied up and were
being unloaded by bucket cranes. The reek of fish was strong enough to
make Rick wish for a gas mask. He saw Scotty's nose wrinkle and knew
his pal wasn't enjoying it, either.

The captain stopped at the first trawler and hailed the bridge. A big
man in an officer's cap answered the hail.

"Let's go aboard," Cap'n Mike said. "This here is the _Jennie Lake_.
We'll talk with Bill Lake for a minute."

Bill Lake was the skipper, and the man they had seen directing the
unloading from the bridge. He greeted Cap'n Mike cordially. The
captain introduced the two boys and Lake shook hands without taking
his eyes from the unloading operation. Rick saw a scoop drop into the
hold and come up with a slippery half-ton of menhaden. Then it sped
along a beam track into the big shed, paused over a wide conveyer
belt, lowered to within a few feet of the belt and dumped its load. A
clerk just inside the