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There were three covered bushel baskets of crabs, and extra baskets stacked in place. One open basket held a dozen jumbo crabs. Orvil's net was in its rack on the engine box, but there was no sign of Orvil himself. Wait there was a sign. Rick knelt by a small brown patch on the deck. He touched it, and a chill lanced through him. Blood, and only recently dried. Orvil's? Rick straightened.
His pulse was faster now, and he rigidly controlled his breathing. Fast breathing wouldn't do, and he would have to be careful not to let out a sigh that would cause bubbles to gush upward in one big rush. A hand found the end of the line and the smooth cylinder to which it was attached. Orvil passed very close, and Rick looked upward.
His groping hands began the search. The first foreign object he touched was a cord. It was the wrong thickness for his own line, and he felt along it until he came to a soft, round mass, and knew he was touching one of Orvil's crab baits. He grinned in spite of the mouthpiece. Wouldn't Orvil be surprised if a diver came up hanging to his bait! He let the crab line drop and continued his search.
"Could Orvil have put the finger on us?" Scotty questioned. Rick shrugged. "I don't want to think so, and I don't. But I have to admit it's possible." "If he's in with them, they'll be diving for the 'what's-it' at first light." Rick glanced at the eastern sky. It was beginning to glow with the first hint of daylight. "That's not long from now." "How are we going to recover it first?"
"At first we thought Orvil might have told the riflemen guards we were on the bottom," Rick said finally, "but that's out. He's a victim, not a member of the gang. I saw his boat just before Scotty picked me up, but I couldn't see him." Scotty picked up the tale.
"Bloodstain on the deck, but no other sign of violence. We had a phone call telling us to keep away from the creek and the house, or Orvil would be fed to the crabs. There's no doubt about it. They have Orvil." Strangely, Steve replied, "Yes, I know. Come on in the house." The three walked up the path to the farmhouse, with Rick and Scotty staring incredulously at the agent. How had he known?
I took off for the cove, keeping a weather eye out for the guards. There was plenty of cover along the bank, so it wasn't hard. I got a good view of the festivities. After the fire was stamped out, the two guards walked up to the bank of the cove and waited until Orvil got close, then they pointed their rifles at him and invited him to come closer still. He didn't have much choice."
Once, Orvil passed within a few feet of him, and Rick wondered if the crabber had noticed the air bubbles from his regulator. Rising ground told Rick he had reached the end of the cove. He turned left and held his course for about twenty feet, then turned left again, heading back toward the cove entrance. His hands never stopped moving, probing the mud for a trace of fish line.
"We know where Orvil is," Scotty pointed out. "We can go after him. This time we'll be armed." Steve shook his head. "Sorry. I wish it could be like that, but we're not engaged in a personal vendetta. Orvil may be out of there by tonight, or he may not. He'll have to take his chances." One thing had been bothering Rick, aside from Steve's untypical attitude about rescuing Orvil.
If one had gone away, I could have jumped the other. But two with guns, and me with not even a rock I was dead certain to end up with Orvil. Besides, I couldn't take the chance." Rick stared. If Steve felt he couldn't take a chance on rescuing Orvil, there had to be a good reason. The only reason Rick could think of was that Steve had decided there was more at stake than Orvil himself.
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