r-flecked waters. The Master threw a scornful glance
at it. He turned in his seat, and peered at the shimmer of the city's
lights, strung like a luminous rosary along the river's edge. Then
he looked up at the roseate flush on the sky, flung there by the
metropolis as from the mouth of a crucible.

"Child's play!" he murmured. "All this coming and going in
crowded streets, all this fighting for bread, and scheming over
pennies--child's play. Less than that--the blind swarming of ants!
Tomorrow, where will all this be, for us?"

He turned back and thrust over the spokes. The launch drew in toward
the Jersey shore.

"Let the engines run at half-speed," he directed, "and control her now
with the clutch."

"Yes, sir!"

The aviator's voice was sharp, precise, determined. The Master nodded
to himself with satisfaction. This man, he felt, would surely be a
valued member of the crew. He might prove more than that. There might
be stuff in him that could be molded to executive ability, in case
that should be necessary.

The launch, now at half-speed, nosed her way directly toward the
cliff. Sounds from shore began to grow audible Afar, an auto siren
shrieked. A dog barked, irritatingly. A human voice came vaguely
hallooing.

Off to the right, over the cliff brow, a faint aura of light was
visible. The eyes of the Master rested on this a moment, brightening.
He smiled again; and his hand tightened a little on the wheel. But all
he said was:

"Dead slow, now, Captain Alden!"

As the cliff drew near, its black brows ate across the sky, devouring
stars. The Master spoke in Arabic to Rrisa, who seized a boat hook
and came forward. Out of the gloom small wharf advanced to meet the
launch. The boat-hook caught; the launch, easing to a stop, cradled
against the stringpiece.

Rrisa held with the hook, while Bohannan and Alden clambered out.
Before the Master left, he bent and seemed to be manipulating
something in the bottom of the launch. Then he stepped to the engine.

"Out, Rrisa," he commanded, "and hold hard with the hook, now!"

The Arab obeyed. All at once the propeller churned water, reversed.
The Master leaped to the wharf.

"Let go--and throw the hook into the boat!" he ordered.

While the three others stood wondering on the dark wharf, the launch
began to draw slowly back into the stream. Already it was riding a bit
low, going down gradually by the bows.

"What now?" questioned the major, astonished.

"