orts were
clearly marked. Zircon found the route from Zamboanga to Jolo and gave
Scotty the first compass setting.

Scotty opened the throttle wide. The _Swift Arrow_ responded instantly,
planing along at a fast clip. Zircon took sightings with the pelorus,
then calculated his readings.

Rick watched with interest, anxious to find out what speed they were
making. Finally the big physicist looked up, grinning. "We've picked a
champion. Twenty-eight knots!"

It was far below the original speed of the craft, but probably far above
the speed of anything else in the Sulu Sea. Rick was satisfied. "I'm
going below. I'll store the chow, then relieve Scotty."

In a short time, taking turns at the helm, the three had everything
stowed and bunks ready for occupancy. Zircon and Scotty had broken out
the newly purchased ammunition and loaded their weapons. Rick hung
Shannon's quiver on a hook near the bunks.

The _Swift Arrow_ sped steadily on. Basilan dropped astern as they
negotiated the countless islands of the Pilas Group. Two islands formed
a narrow channel ahead, Rick saw, as he took the wheel from Scotty. Once
through the channel they would be in open water, nothing between them
and Jolo but the Sulu Sea.

Scotty walked to the bow, to check on the readiness of the anchor. In a
moment he returned and joined Rick. "Must be good fishing country. Lots
of vintas in the channel ahead."

Rick had noticed. "Must be two dozen." Between the islands, the channel
was dotted with red, purple, green, and brown sails. As the MTB drew
nearer, Rick throttled down a little. He was already traveling at
cruising speed, considerably less than top speed, but he didn't want to
take a chance of ramming one of the Moro craft.

The distance closed rapidly, and Zircon pointed out that the vintas
seemed to be spreading in a line across the channel, only a boat's
length between them. "Slow down more," he advised. "They may be hauling
a net or something."

Rick did so, keeping a careful eye out for net floats. "Not much room to
go through. I'll toot the horn."

He gave the horn a long blast. The Moros paid no attention. Apparently
fishing boats had the right of way, and they didn't intend to move. The
_Swift Arrow_ was close enough now, so he could see the triangular masts
and the booms of the lateen sails. He could make out the crews, too. The
boats seemed to be crowded with men.

"They're not going to make way!" Zircon exclaimed. The MTB w