pread out," he called. "Then they can't get all of
us." He put his head down and cut through the water like a fish. If only
there were time to undress! But he didn't dare pause even long enough to
untie his shoes.

The swim was a nightmare. Every few moments the auto lights blinked
briefly as their unknown friend gave them a course to steer by. Rick
looked back once and the junk had straightened out and was gaining on
them. He redoubled his efforts. Scotty was even with him, but Zircon was
pulling ahead.

He heard voices close behind and cast a glance back. The junk with the
purple sails was perilously close. He drew new strength from somewhere
and forged ahead.

The swimmers had closed the distance rapidly. The next time the lights
blinked Rick could make out two figures standing next to the car. He
could hear the creaking of gear on the junk and the grunts of the
polemen, and the sounds were close! He lifted his voice in a cry for
help. "They're on top of us!"

The car lights blinked on, and held the junk in their glare. A gun fired
once from the shore. Rick saw the orange spurt. Then he heard a cry from
almost overhead and the junk veered sharply.

"Angle right," Scotty called, and Rick saw that they were almost at the
tip of the pier. He put on a last spurt, caught a pile, and pulled
himself up by its lashings. In a moment all three of them were running
down the pier toward the waiting car.

The lights came on and a British voice called, "In the car. Hurry!"

"It's the bank clerk!" Scotty gasped.

It was. Ronald Keaton-Yeats ran to meet them. "Do hurry!" he exclaimed.
"We think someone from this end has gone for reinforcements for your
friends yonder." The three followed him to the car, a touring sedan of
British make. Rick sensed that someone was behind him and started to
turn, but a soft voice whispered in his ear.

"Keep looking ahead. Get to your hotel and wait there for a phone call."

They piled into the car, wet clothes and all. Keaton-Yeats ran around to
the driver's seat, then stopped. "I say! Where did that other chap go
to?"

"What other?" Zircon asked.

"A Eurasian. He's the one who led me here, and who fired that shot.
Dashed uncivilized, but I guess it saved your bacon, rather. No matter.
He's vanished and that's an end to it." The young Englishman had been
peering into the shadows. "We'll hie on our merry way and leave him to
his own devices."

Rick started to mention the message that