Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 16, 2025
Rick asked, his eyes wide. "Sure. It was safe enough. The gang was sleeping upstairs and the two guards were interested in you and Orvil. No papers were left where I could get them. There's a built-in safe, but I'm no Jimmy Valentine who sandpapers his fingers and opens boxes by touch. I couldn't do anything with it. Finally, I figured all had been seen that could be seen, and left the house.
They took the runabout's bow rope and swam easily and quietly. There was no hurry. Orvil Harris would need a little time to put out his lines. He would avoid the pole they had placed; its top would be above water at this stage of the tide. Scotty led the way to the opening into the small waterway through which they had gone to the duck blind.
"He put on a pretty good act, saying he didn't know what they were shooting at, but the guards weren't having any. They finally made him pull up his lines, throw his bait overboard, and get everything shipshape. Then one of the guards invited him to step ashore. Orvil balked and took a swing at the nearest one and got a rifle across the head. He dropped to the deck.
Scotty was going through some kind of maneuvers. Then, in a short time, another motor made itself felt, more than heard. The slower beat identified it as Orvil Harris's crab boat. He was nearing the cove! Like all divers, Rick's ears were sensitive to pressure changes. Sensing when the depth lessened, he knew he had reached the cove itself. Now to find the payload if it was a payload.
"Yes, but I'm going to follow a different line of investigation. If it brings results, we'll compare notes at breakfast." "We could postpone recovery and help you tonight," Scotty suggested. Steve smiled warmly. "Thanks, but no thanks. What I have to do is for a lone hand. Rick, you phone Orvil Harris and make arrangements." Rick consulted the telephone directory and turned to Steve.
They operated entirely by touch; nothing was visible except the luminous dials of their compasses. The motor sound was muted in the burbling exhaust of their bubbles. It was almost possible to stand on flipper tips with head above water. The boys thrust their heads out with care, and saw Orvil bearing down on them, peering forward anxiously. He waved when he saw the two helmeted heads.
Orvil Harris had described the opening to the hidden waterway, but when the boys examined the line of reeds and marsh grass there was no sign of it. "He said thirty yards downstream," Scotty remembered. Rick was at the wheel of the runabout. "Climb out on the bow," he suggested. "Take the boat hook with you. I'll just keep nosing in until we find it." "Okay."
That wouldn't help Orvil, at least for now, and they might possibly be picked off by the riflemen. As they neared the pier, Scotty moved out of the way while Rick backed the big crab boat into the runabout's place. Before he had finished, Steve was coming down the walk at a run. The agent took the line Rick tossed and made it fast, then caught another line and secured the bow.
They kept going until the scrub concealed them, listening for sounds from the creek. There was the beat of a motor. It sounded like Orvil's boat, and Rick thought it probably was. But would Orvil continue crabbing? Again the doubt came. Had the crabber tried to kill them? He couldn't believe it. The boys stopped and slipped off their fins. "Lead on," Rick said softly. "Okay.
Probably the night watchers had seen the pole handed up to Orvil, or had seen the faint light reflecting from their masks. What had happened to Orvil? One thing was certain. They couldn't stay on the bottom indefinitely. Rick consulted his wrist compass and closed his fingers on Scotty's shoulder. He led the way toward the mouth of the cove.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking