of light to lighten the
darkness of an unsolved mystery. When they reached the albacore banks
and sighted the vanguard of the fishing fleet, both came back sharply,
back from the maze of doubt and intangible suspicions which clouded
their brains as the fog had clouded the island that held their thoughts.

Making the rounds of the albacore fishermen the truth of the girl's
pessimistic prophecy became strikingly apparent. The fish had
undoubtedly taken to sea. Laying-to to check one of the last of the few
remaining boats which rode at anchor, Dickie consulted her tally-sheet
and shook her head.

"Not much in this," she averred. "It's a losing game so far. And there's
only Big Jack with the _Albatross_ yet to hear from. We ought to find
him cruising off the seal rocks. He's generally the first out and the
last to come in. He never gives up while there's a chance left. I've
seen him 'chumming' for albacore all day and then bring in a bunch hours
after everybody else had given up."

As they drew near the _Albatross_ she hailed the fisherman: "How are the
fish, Jack?"

Big Jack continued throwing the live bait from the tanks into the water.
Then he straightened up and hitched at his suspender.

"They're beginnin' to come in like hell," he bellowed.

The fisherman was right. Gregory looked over the rail and gasped with
wonderment. The sea about them was literally alive with fish. The lines
which flashed over the side of the _Albatross_ scarcely touched the
water before the fish struck.

Dickie's eyes snapped at the sight.

"Put her about," she cried to Gregory. "And beat it as fast as you can
for home. We'll make a killing if we can just overhaul enough of the
boys to get in on the run. Load up, Jack," she called as the vessel
swung about. "Cruise up and down and keep 'chumming' so we won't lose
them. We're going after the fleet. Pound her for all she'll stand," she
instructed Gregory. "Every minute means money."

They had been running only a few minutes when they sighted Mascola's
speed-boat astern. The girl frowned as the _Fuor d'Italia_ roared by in
a swirl of white water.

"This is where speed counts," she exclaimed. "If Mascola tumbles on to
Big Jack he'll have his gang around the _Albatross_ before we can get
within hailing distance of our nearest boat."

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 Po