w
had decided to stay with them. This time it was Rick who spotted him.
The shadow was nearly hidden beyond a curve in the shore line. To anyone
not aware of being tailed, he would have appeared to be with any of the
other casual figures that went unhurriedly about their business in the
neighborhood. If Scotty hadn't pointed him out, Rick would not have
suspected that the shadow had the slightest interest in the Spindrift
party.

"We going to rig the aqualungs?" Scotty asked.

"Let's not bother. Masks, snorkels, and fins. We can swim out and take a
look at some of the coral heads."

"How about a gun?"

Rick considered. "I guess not. We don't want to do any hunting. But you
might take a hand spear in case something real inviting shows up. And
let's take our knives." He had also decided against taking his camera. A
leisurely, unencumbered swim was what he wanted. There would be time
enough for hunting fish or taking pictures later, when they got to
Clipper Cay.

While Scotty went into the cabin to select a spear from their assortment
of fishing gear, Rick surveyed the _Water Witch_ with satisfaction. It
was a thirty-five-foot craft with a small cabin forward and a spacious
cockpit aft. It had been used as a diving tender before, apparently,
because there was a ladder that could be swung outboard for a diver to
use. There was also a small boom that could be rigged quickly for
lowering or lifting gear from the water.

The gas tanks were ample for their purposes. One filling would be more
than sufficient for a round trip to Clipper Cay plus any cruising they
would do while at the island. The tanks were full.

Water capacity, an important consideration on waterless Clipper Cay, was
more than adequate. In addition to a built-in fifty-gallon tank in the
cabin, there was a rack of five ten-gallon jerry cans in the cockpit.

Scotty emerged from the cabin with a short, low-powered spring gun.
"Thought I might as well bring a light gun," he said. "It's just as easy
to carry as a spear."

"Okay." Rick led the way down the pier to the beach, carrying his mask,
snorkel, and slippers. These he placed carefully on one of the Sky
Wagon's pontoons, in order to protect the clear glass of his mask from
any possible scratching. Then, with a yell to Scotty to hurry, he
bounded through the shallows, threw himself forward, and planed along
the surface of the water. Lifting his head for a quick breath, he dove
under, feeling the wond