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By now it would all be over. His thoughts turned quickly to Dickie Lang. Perhaps the Gray Ghost might have come upon the Richard's anchorage in the cove adjoining the goose-neck. Perhaps the speed-boat had been run down. Would the girl do as she was told and stay on the launch? His mind a prey to conflicting thoughts and emotions, Gregory crawled on through the darkness.
Owing to the extreme wideness of the waterway, the Italian's boats would now have a better chance. The V must be broadened by the boats hitherto held in reserve. They must be brought up at once. The rising wind and the roughening sea, added to Gregory's inexperience in handling the speed-boat, rendered the mobilization of the cannery fleet not only slow, but extremely hazardous as well.
"To-night is a time I must have something more than talk. I want you to go down and join your fleet at once, keep a close watch and if the speed-boat does not arrive within a half-hour, let me know immediately." Mascola made no move to obey. "Gonzolez is laying in at the goose-neck," he said. "I sent Rossi round to join him. The Fuor d'Italia lies in the little cove beyond."
Gregory left Legonia at ten-thirty with his speed-boat. There were five in the launch. Four men and Miss Lang." Mascola drew in his breath sharply. "That damned Lang girl," he began. "She is a " Bandrist slid from his chair with a quick movement which carried him wriggling about the table. "Keep your tongue still," he gritted as he towered over the Italian. "You talk too much."
And Jack McCoy, though he said nothing as he walked with the girl along the dock, wondered what the boss could have said to make Dick blush like that. His first ride in a speed-boat. Kenneth Gregory leaned back on the cushions and watched the Richard drag her heavy hull through the quiet water of Crescent Bay. A feeling of disgust assailed him. The craft was utterly worthless for his purposes.
She's about a mile off the goose-neck. They're going to land in the next cove. The Gray Ghost's at anchor now off the isthmus cove. Mascola's speed-boat passed them in the fog about an hour ago. He's lying in somewhere farther down." He rose as he spoke and began to wreck the radio set. "Tie those fellows up good, Jack," he instructed Billings. "We don't want to be bothered with them down below.
It was one-thirty already. Not much chance of reaching Legonia in time to accomplish much to-day. "Tell McCoy I'll be at the cannery before four o'clock." Dickie flashed a glance at the clock on the Richard's dash at Gregory's words. Every minute was going to count. It was up to the speed-boat to show what she could do. Opening the cut-out, the girl began to get the speed-craft under way.
She's kind of adopted you and she told me to look out for you." Soon they were discussing the new speed-boat and its practicability at the present time should it be proved a success. "Mascola ran across our trammels this morning with a dragnet," the girl explained. "If you had had that boat, you might have stopped them.
In all probability it was his boat. And if so, where was he going to get the money to pay for it? He walked to the wharf and with narrowing eyes watched the stranger's approach. Something wrong somewhere, he reasoned. He had ordered a speed-boat. One that would beat Mascola's. A craft with real lines and bird-like grace like the Fuor d'Italia.
Gregory watched the rapidly disappearing speed-boat anxiously. It was on his tongue to tell the girl of the launch Joe Barrows was building for him at Port Angeles, a craft which the boat-builder guaranteed in the contract would beat the boat he had built for the Italian. "Keeping in close touch is everything in this business," Dickie observed. "Fish come in bunches.
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