that served for a signal mast and for the radio aerial for the small receiving set with which the cabin was equipped, capable of tuning-in short wave stations and the Navy broadcasts of weather, signals, and so forth, they all saw a small electric bulb glowing finely into the dark night.“Well—I’ll be—switched!” gasped Tom. “Now why should they show a light?”

“It’s the law—” began Nicky, but he stopped, realizing that these men, all of whom were silent but fierce-looking, obeyed no law as to lights or other rules of the seaways.

The lookout just forward of their group was staring toward the horizon as they nosed gently forward out of a small strait between a key and a section of the bay shore. He turned and made some sort of signal with a tiny, blinking flashlight in his cupped hands.

Instantly the wheel went hard over, the vessel swung in a long curve and began to straighten her wake as speed increased on a straightaway run down the shore.

“I see her,” Nicky whispered, directing his chum’s gaze. “There’s a boat and she’s heading for us.”

Far off across the water there came a dull report. At the same instant Nelse came on deck, gazed for a moment, said “Couldn’t be better!” to Don Ortiga, and walked aft rapidly, while the captain stood watching him. Nicky left the group, took the other side of the cabin and slipped along the deck. To his amazement Nelse was dropping into a small boat that was towing. A deckhand pushed a long, slim pole, with something at its tip, into the small boat.

Nelse lifted the pole which looked like a rather long fishing pole, and seemed to be stepping its butt in a place in his forward thwart.

Forward Tom and Cliff watched with straining eyes, as did the Don. Another vivid, but distant flash was followed by a dull report and there came a faint “plash-thunk!” in the water far ahead.

At the same moment a sailor loped forward.

“All clear, sir,” he muttered.

Don Ortiga turned, lifted a hand. Tom, his eye cocked aloft, saw that their masthead light disappeared instantly. He turned to see if Cliff had noticed it, and then saw what Nicky, at the stern, had already guessed.

Nelse’s boat was a decoy. His stout pole once firmly stepped his ty-line was dropped off the cruiser’s stem, and as the masthead light winked 

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