e owed Kenneth Gregory an
apology. Now that the boss was down and out it was up to every one to do
their level-darnedest. He'd see that they did, too. He was sorry it had
all happened. Sorry that he had doubted. Sorry too for other things
which he would not admit, even to himself. And down in the bottom of his
heart, loyal though it was, Jack McCoy was sorry that Kenneth Gregory
had not been taken to Swanson's.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE COST OF DEFEAT

There are periods in every one's life when the standard measurements of
time are hopelessly inadequate fittingly to express its passing. Minutes
may creep, or they may fly. An hour stretches into a day or a day
contracts into an hour directly at the will of circumstance.

Kenneth Gregory found this to be true during his period of convalescence
at the Lang cottage. As the days went by he found himself devising a
simpler method for keeping track of time. There were hours when Dickie
Lang was with him, and hours when she was not.

His moments with the girl were always too short. And he was surprised to
find that they never appeared to lengthen. His interest in Dickie, he
told himself, was purely impersonal. She told him of just the things he
desired to hear most about. Kept him in touch with his world. Brought
him news each day from the cannery; the business for which he hungered
and fretted during each minute of his idle hours.

It was Dickie Lang who had told him of the search which had been made
for Boris, a search which had ended in failure. The Russian had fled,
leaving no trace of his whereabouts. Blagg also was missing, so nothing
further could be learned from that source. Gossip had been rife in the
fishing village over the sudden disappearance of the two men. Then the
matter was apparently forgotten, giving place to the excitement caused
by the installation of the first radio-set on one of the cannery fishing
fleet.

Gregory, who had given orders for a trial equipment before the accident,
was elated to learn from the girl that the innovation was proving a
distinct success. Other sets were installed and the practicability of
the new idea was demonstrated beyond the shadow of a doubt. To quote the
girl, all she had to do was to "spot the fish, click out the signal and
the cannery boats would be round her like a flock of gulls."

Mascola, she told Gregory, had regarded the new departure, at the
outset, as something of a joke. Rock too had ridiculed the idea