hurricanes."

"Whatever it is, we'll have more of it," Zircon stated.

Rick switched to the Navy command frequency in time to intercept a
conversation with a destroyer somewhere off the British Virgin Islands.
The destroyer had just lost one of its boats.

At four minutes after six the air went silent, then a new voice took
over the microphone. The voice said:

"_A message for the ones who hunted blue sheep._"

"That's us!" Rick gasped.

When Steve had dispatched Rick, Scotty, and Zircon to Tibet, it had been
with the cover story that they were going to hunt the blue sheep called
Bharals in the mountains of West China. Only Steve would know that. The
message was from him.

Static crackled, but the message was clear:

"_The one who started the hunt needs the biggest hunter. Only the
biggest hunter. He should be delivered as soon as possible. Call your
usual contact before arrival and say that the doctor is coming and to
notify the patient._"

The message was repeated, while the four strained to be certain they had
heard every word. When normal traffic resumed, Rick switched the set
off.

"It appears," Zircon said slowly, "that I'm wanted."

"Yep." Scotty grinned. "The demand is there, all right. But delivery is
a long way off."

The storm punctuated his words.

CHAPTER XIV

Below the Dark Coral

The sky was overcast, ceiling about two thousand feet, visibility about
two miles. The wind was moderate and steady. Rick examined the water in
front of the cottage and told his friends, "I can take off all right.
But I don't want to leave without a weather report or we might find
ourselves with no place to land."

"I'm going to swap this radio for a newspaper," Scotty grumbled. He had
been trying without success to get a weather report.

Tony Briotti looked at the Sky Wagon, brows furrowed, then asked, "Rick,
couldn't you turn on the radio in the plane and get a weather report
from the airport at Charlotte Amalie?"

Rick was climbing into the Sky Wagon before Tony finished. Of course he
could! He called, "I'm a chump!"

The set warmed and Rick called the airport, then held the phones to his
ears to hear the reply through heavy static. When the airport answered
he asked for a weather report for the area between St. Thomas and
Clipper Cay. He got it, and climbed out, his face thoughtful.

"The storm is having a pup," he told the others. "We're in a lull at the
moment. The main storm swung off to