over."

"Don't want him, Jones. Got to have men who know the game round Diablo
in a fog. Take Sorenson."

The fisherman nodded and lumbered up the gangway followed by others.
Dickie Lang jammed her hands deep down into her pockets and shrugged her
shoulders as she turned to Gregory.

"If it isn't one thing, it's another," she said quietly. "Can you beat
it? Manuel saying he was run down? He was scared to death. I don't
believe a thing touched him. He just went to sleep and drifted in on the
rocks and made up that story to save his job. Well, we'll know when I
see the hull."

Gregory listened, scarcely hearing the girl's words. At her announcement
of going to the island he began to make tentative plans to accompany
her. There might be a lot he could do. And she sure needed help. He
wondered if he could offer his assistance without again antagonizing
her.

"I'd like to go with you," he said bluntly. "I don't know much about the
sea yet, but maybe I can do some of the strong-arm stuff and learn
something. Besides, I want to have a look at Diablo."

Dickie regarded him approvingly.

"How about the cannery?" she asked. "My boats will go on fishing just
the same."

"McCoy can take care of things all right until I get back. I'll learn a
lot more over there than sticking around here."

"You're the boss of that," she replied. Then she added as an
afterthought. "I'd be glad to have you."

As they walked to the wharf Gregory encountered McCoy and explained the
situation.

"So I'm going out there," he concluded. "While I'm away it's up to you."

McCoy, he noticed, did not enthuse over the idea.

"Diablo's a dangerous place to be fooling around at this time of the
year," he said.

"If she can take the risk, I surely can," Gregory answered promptly.

"You're needed here," objected McCoy. "Everything's new and there's
liable to be something come up I don't know about."

"Then do the best you can. I'll back you up. You know a lot more about
it anyway than I do."

McCoy lapsed into silence while Gregory hurried away to make ready for
the trip. When they were ready to shove off, McCoy watched the two boats
slide out into the fog with conflicting emotions. Dick knew how to take
care of herself all right. She could handle a boat in bad weather with
the best of them. But, was that good enough? He reflected suddenly that
Bill Lang _had_ been the best of them. And it was on just such a day as
this that Bill Lang had met