“Couldn’t it be a coral formation, Li?” he asked.
“Gee, I don’t think so, Biff. There’d be more then one formation of coral around. It’s mighty rare to find just a sliver stuck out somewhere in the ocean.”
“Then it could be a boat! A boat on the bottom of the ocean.”
“Huntington’s boat?”
“Could be, Li. But let’s not get our hopes up too high.”
“Let’s go. Let’s get back to the Easy Action and cruise over there. We’ve got to find out.”
Before agreeing, Biff thought about his father and Hank Mahenili. Should the boys continue the search? After all, the same storm that had forced him and Li to spend the night ashore could well have caused the fathers to take shelter. Perhaps their parents even now were back at the beach opposite the anchorage, or even aboard the yawl. Biff made his decision.
“Okay, Li. Let’s go,” Biff said.
The boys reached the beach opposite the Easy Action’s anchorage in half the time it had taken them to make the ascent. Downhill, all the way.
“We’ll take the dinghy out,” Biff said. “Won’t do our parents any good if the yawl isn’t here.”
Their haste matched the excitement growing inside them about their find. Of course, both knew they could be in for a great disappointment. Biff pushed that depressing thought out of his mind.
Li upped anchor while Biff got the engine started, then went to the cockpit. Biff took the tiller and pointed the yawl’s bow directly out to sea. With a careful eye, he measured the distance from shore until he was sure he was about half a mile out. Then he put the helm of the Easy Action hard over to the starboard and cruised parallel to the shore.
“Think you’ve got that spot well marked in your mind, Li?”
“Sure have, Biff. Remember when we spotted it? There was a large, oval patch of whitish lava just to the left of where we were resting. I’m sure we can spot it from the sea.”
“Okay. You be the lookout. I’m going to keep this boat on as true a course as I can. I think we’re just about as far off shore now as we figured that sunken boat was. What do you think?”
“Looks right to me. What do you want me to do?”
“You take the glasses. Keep them turned on the Mauna Loa slope. Soon as you pick up that oval lava patch, sing out.”
“Aye, aye, captain.”
Li went forward with the binoculars. He kept them trained shoreward, aiming them about two thousand feet up the slope.
The distance to the spot the boys had in mind was greater than they had thought it to be. They covered a lot of water. Biff checked his watch. He hoped they could spot the sunken hulk before the light went.
“Land ho!” Li sang out and came racing back over the deck to the cockpit. “Oval patch coming into sight, captain. Here, take the glasses and see for yourself.”
Biff turned the tiller over to Li and took a look. That was the patch, all right. It was off their starboard bow, still a good two miles ahead. Biff revved up the engine, and the Easy Action’s auxiliary pushed the yawl along at a good eight knots. In twenty minutes—Biff timed the run, figuring the miles the yawl would cover at full speed—they were dead opposite the lava patch. Biff cut the motor.
“It ought to be somewhere about here,” Biff said. “You shin up the mainmast. I’m going to put the yawl in a tight circle, starting right here, then I’ll increase the circle every time we make one full turn.”
While Li was climbing the mast to a height of about fifteen feet, Biff ducked down into the cabin for a marking buoy. This he tossed overside. Its metal weight plunged to the bottom and held. The red-and-white buoy would be the hub of the circle he would put the yawl into. Biff started the engine again.
“All set, Li.”
“Start the merry-go-round,” Li called back.
The Easy Action made a tight circle. Biff edged the tiller away from him, and the second circle was of a greater circumference. Biff eased off on the tiller again. The yawl described a larger circle. If the sunken hulk was in that area, there shouldn’t be any chance of missing it. The water was clear, the sea calm.
Round and round they went. The bobbing red-and-white marking buoy became a mere speck. Biff could barely make it out with his naked eye.
Half an hour passed; then another. The sun was slanting downward, not more than two hours from its nightly dip into the Pacific.
“Hold it, Biff! Hold it!” came the excited shout from Li.
Biff threw the engine into reverse. He leaped forward and let down the anchor. He turned and looked up at Li, who, shading his eyes, was peering intently into the water off the yawl’s portside.
“I’ve spotted it, Biff. I’m sure of it. If I haven’t, well—you come up and take a look.”
Li slid down the mast and Biff shinned up. He looked at the spot Li had pointed out. For a time, his eyes were unable to discover any difference as he squinted, looking down into the water. After several minutes, he did make out a formation differing from anything around it. It was a dark object. Biff could think only of a whale, or some other large sea animal, lying on the ocean’s floor.
“You’re right, Li. There’s something down there.” He slid down the mast. “But how are we going to find out just what it is?”
Li grinned. “That’s easy, Biff. You have on board your ship Easy Action, Captain Brewster, none other than the world’s record-holding free skin diver, Likake Mahenili.”
“You’re going to dive down there?” Biff said, awe in his voice.
“Sure. Why not?”
“Well, you’re not going to until we sound for the depth here. What’s the deepest dive you’ve ever made, Li?”
“Forty-five, maybe fifty feet if I stretch it a little,” Li replied.
Biff got out the sounding line. This was a thin, strong rope. It had a heavy sinker on the end. At intervals of one foot, it had a metal weight to mark off the depth. Biff tossed it overboard. The line seemed to run out endlessly. Biff was afraid the ocean’s depth here was going to turn out to be too great for Li to try a dive. Then he felt the thud of the heavy sinker touching bottom. He drew the rope tight.
“Here we go. Let’s both count the markers as we pull it up.”
Biff worked slowly, carefully. They couldn’t risk any mistakes in their count.
When the sinker broke the surface, Biff looked at Li. “How many markers did you count?”
“Forty-three. Does that check with your count?”
“On the nose, Li, on the nose. I make it forty-three too.”
“Good. I can make that easy. But, hey, how am I going to know if it’s the right boat? What was the name of Mr. Huntington’s sloop?”
“The Sea Islander, Li.”
“Okay. Can you work the boat over a bit? I’d like to be right over her when I make my dive.”
“All right, Li. Take up the anchor. Just enough to get it off the bottom. Then let go the second I call.”
Biff went back to the cockpit. He pushed the engine’s starting button. He had to go forward about ten feet and edge the yawl to the port about fifteen. He shoved the tiller away, putting the boat to the port, and went forward about twenty feet. Then he pulled the tiller to him, put the yawl in reverse, and came back.
“Let ’er go,” he called out. He felt the anchor grab. It must be almost alongside the sunken object.
Li came back to the cockpit, darted into the cabin, and came out with a small anchor. It was a spare for the dinghy.
“What do you want that thing for?” Biff demanded.
“A weight. I’m going down with it. It will pull me down a lot faster than I could swim. And forty-three feet is a lot of water.”
“I’ll say it is. You all ready?”
Li nodded his head. He had changed into brief, skin-tight swim trunks. He walked over to the starboard side of the yawl. He took some wooden matches and hurled them into the water.
“What’s that for?” Biff asked.
“I want to find out if there’s much flow here. If there’s any current. I have to judge my dive by the current.”
They watched the matches. They seemed to bob up and down in the same place. Li had tossed them about ten feet from the yawl. As they watched, they saw the distance between yawl and matches closing. It was closing, all right, but slowly.
“Know all I have to, Biff. Very slight current. Nothing to worry about; nothing I have to figure on particularly. Here I go.”
Before Biff could even call “good luck,” Li, the small anchor held in front of him, plunged into the water.
The wait for Li to surface began.
When Likake disappeared beneath the surface, Biff glanced quickly at his watch. He tried to remember the record for a person’s holding his breath while under water. Was it three minutes? Four? He remembered reading of some Polynesian divers in Bali who had remained submerged for six minutes.
How long could Li hold his breath? Biff looked at his watch again. Already the sweep hand had passed the two-minute mark.
Biff began to worry. The seconds ticked by slowly, as if held back by a magnet. The three-minute mark was approaching. Surely Li couldn’t hold out much longer. Biff’s eyes kept shifting from the water to the sweep hand of his watch. Three minutes! Still no sign of Li. Biff made up his mind. He was going in after Li. He slipped off his watch and peeled off his shirt. Just as he was preparing to dive, Li’s head broke the surface.
How long could Li hold his breath?
For several moments, the Hawaiian boy lay in the water, head back, body floating. He needed time to recover. Biff could see his chest heaving up and down beneath the two inches of water covering it. Finally, Li turned his head. He looked up at Biff and smiled. He turned over, and with one powerful stroke, propelled himself to the side of the yawl.
Biff’s eager hands helped heave Li overside.
“You all right? You were sure down long enough!” Biff said.
Li nodded his head, his chest still moved in and out as he took deep breaths, exhaling them slowly. Biff was dying to find out what, if anything, Li had learned on his dive, but he didn’t want to press his friend.
Li let out a “H-a-a-a-a-a. Boy! Guess that’s the deepest I’ve ever dived.”
Biff couldn’t stand the suspense any longer.
“And what did you find? Was it a sloop? Was it the Sea Islander?”
“Yes to both questions, Biff.”
“Whoopee! Eeeowie! We’ve found it! We’ve found it!”
Biff grabbed Li by the shoulders and whirled him around.
“You sure, Li? You’re positive it’s the Sea Islander?”
“I’m sure, Biff. There was a life preserver still attached to the side of the sloop’s cabin. I could make out the letters spelling the boat’s name. And those letters sure did spell out Sea Islander.”
“What condition’s she in?”
“Well, I couldn’t tell much. She’s heeled over on her starboard side, I think. Not all the way. Her mast is broken off, as far as I could tell. Some of her ropes are still attached. I brushed against them both going down and coming back up.”
Li had stretched out on the deck of the Easy Action. Strength was flowing back into his body. Staying submerged as long as he had takes a lot out of a person physically.
“Well, Li. I think we’d better get back to our original anchorage. Your dad and mine must be back there by now. If they’re not, well, we’ll have to forget about the Sea Islander and really look for them. We may have to go for help.”
“Before we go, though, Biff, I’d like to go back down to the Sea Islander—”
“Again? What in the world for?”
“Not all the way. But don’t you think it would be a good idea if we could attach a marker to one of the loose lines? Then we’d be able to spot this location easily.”
“Good idea, Li. How near the surface do those loose lines come?”
“Oh, I’d guess twenty, maybe twenty-five feet. Won’t be much of a dive this time. Not after going down over forty feet.”
“Okay, Li. You lie there and rest. I’ll rig a marking buoy.”
Biff went below and took out another buoy from the yawl’s captain’s chest. This was an all-white one. He attached a short length of nylon rope to the buoy, and a metal clip to the other end of the rope.
Returning to the deck, he showed it to Li. “How will this do? I figure you can tie a fast knot in one of those loose lines, then just snap this metal fastener below the knot. Then it won’t slip off.”
“Swell, Biff. I’ve got my breath back now. This won’t take a minute.”
Li took the buoy. A frown came over his face.
“What’s the trouble?” Biff asked.
“Well, with this buoy, it’s going to make it tougher to get down. The other time, remember, I had the help of a weight pulling me down—the dinghy’s emergency anchor. Now I’ve got this buoy, which will be working against me. I don’t know—”
“I’ll fix that.” Biff went astern. He pulled in the dinghy which was tied to the stem of the yawl, hopped in, and cut its anchor.
“Here you are, Li. That cleans us out of dinghy anchors. They go fast on a day like this.”
“Marked down. Special sale.” Li grinned in reply. He stepped to the side of the yawl. Holding buoy and anchor in front of him, once more the Hawaiian boy jumped feet first into the blue water.
Biff looked at his watch again, but he wasn’t worried this time. Li was only going down twenty feet. Feeling quite happy over finding the Sea Islander, Biff whistled a popular tune. He looked up at Mauna Loa, wondering where his father might be at the moment. He glanced down at his watch. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Unless he had misread the time of Li’s submersion, three minutes had already passed.
Biff swiftly went into action. Li shouldn’t have taken more than two minutes—not that long—for this dive. Biff’s body split the water. He pulled himself downward. The water pressure at the depth of fifteen feet was already exerting abnormal pressure on his chest. Still he pulled himself downward. He had to. I’ve got to find Li, he told himself.
At twenty feet beneath the surface, with his lungs screaming for air, Biff’s hands touched Li’s head. The Hawaiian boy was fighting frantically to free one leg from a rope entwined around it.
Biff used Li’s body to pull himself the four feet farther downward to reach the rope. He tore at it, felt it give, and Li’s leg was free. Biff placed his hands on Li’s body and gave it a powerful thrust upward. Then, barely able to hold his breath any longer, he spread his hands, palms downward, pushed with all his might and shot toward the surface.
When Biff broke the surface, gasping for breath, he looked for his friend. There was Li, only a few feet away. But from the position of his head, lolling to one side in the water, Biff knew the boy was unconscious. Tired as he was, his own lungs aching from the recent strain put upon them, Biff swam to Li’s side. At first, all he did was support Li’s head, keeping his nose and mouth from going under water.
After a few moments, Biff kicked his way to the side of the yawl. He felt the need of support, too. With one hand holding on to the Easy Action amidship, he held onto Li with the other. Biff had no way of knowing as yet whether Li had swallowed so much water that his lungs were filled. He kept the word “drowned” out of his mind.
When he had regained his strength, Biff let go of the yawl. Treading water, he took Li’s head in both hands and drew it right up to his own face. He placed his cheek against Li’s nose.
Thank heavens! He could feel Li’s breath on his face.
Biff pulled himself and Li back to the side of the Easy Action. He placed Li directly against the side of the yawl. He released him and at the same instant, pulled himself quickly onto the deck. Then, belly down, he leaned over and was just able to grasp Li under the arms. With a powerful tug, he pulled the still unconscious boy onto the deck.
His first action was to turn him over and administer first aid. He raised and lowered Li’s body to expel any water that might still be in his lungs. Then he placed Li on his side, his face turned toward the deck. He watched Li’s troubled breathing become easier.
Biff sank back with a sigh of relief. His friend was going to be all right. A tremendous weariness swept over Biff. He hadn’t known how near to the point of exhaustion he had brought himself. For the next half hour, both boys lay on the deck regaining their strength.
The slanting rays of the setting sun were casting long shadows on the slope of the Mauna Loa. Biff sat up. He didn’t know at first what had caught his attention. He stared at the side of the volcano. He saw it again. A quick flash, a bright reflection. It disappeared. Biff kept his eyes trained on the spot. There it was again. He turned. The sun was low on the horizon, but still bright. He realized that the Easy Action was directly between the setting sun and the flash of reflected light he had spotted.
What could it be? Was it his imagination?
Biff felt Li stir beside him. The Hawaiian boy opened his eyes. A feeble smile touched his lips. He tried to speak.
“Take it easy, Li. Rest a little longer.”
Li closed his eyes.
Biff looked again at the spot on the Mauna Loa where he had seen the flash. It came again, then disappeared.
Biff heard Li’s faltering voice behind him.
“You saved my life, Biff.”
Li was sitting up now. Biff felt embarrassed. What was there to say? He turned to his friend, and the smiles they exchanged expressed more than any words could possibly do.
“What happened, anyway, Li?”
“It was my own fault, Biff. I guess I panicked. I got down easily. Found a loose rope. But I had trouble staying submerged while I tried to tie a knot. So I made a quick slip knot and hooked it over my leg to hold me steady while I tied the knot to fasten the clasp to.”
Biff frowned. “You mean you sort of anchored yourself to the Sea Islander?”
“Guess you could call it that. Anyway, it took longer than I figured. Once I had hooked the buoy on the rope, I tried to free my leg from the slip knot. My body pulling on the knot had tightened it. The wet rope made the knot even harder to undo. That’s when I panicked, I guess. The more I worked on the knot, the tighter it seemed to get. Then I sort of blacked out. I don’t even remember you’re coming down to rescue me.”
“Thank goodness I got there in time!”
Li put his hands over his face. His shoulders shook. Biff realized the boy was crying. He said nothing. Better to let Li get the shock out of his system. He continued to watch his friend carefully. Li had come close to death.
Li, after a few moments, removed his hands and grinned. “Sorry, Biff, I guess I’m acting like a baby.”
“Nonsense. After what you just went through, well—Say, I want you to see if you can see what I just saw—if you can follow all that ‘see’ and ‘saw.’” Biff wanted to change the subject, stop Li from thinking about his narrow escape. He also wanted to check the flash he had just seen.
“Look over there, Li. About two thousand feet up the slope of Mauna Loa.” He pointed with his arm. “I’d swear I’ve just been seeing light reflected. Seems like a mirror pointed into the sun—you know, the way kids sometimes signal to one another.”
Li raised his eyes. Both boys saw the reflection come at the same time.
“I see it, Biff. There it is. Now it’s gone.”
“What do you think it could be, Li?”
“Like you said, maybe a mirror or—or glasses.”
“That’s it! Glasses. Someone’s got binoculars trained on us. And we’re right in the path of the setting sun. Someone’s watching us through binoculars.”
“I’ll bet you’re right. It’s probably my dad and yours.”
“Hey, I sure hope so.” But even as Biff spoke the words, another idea came into his head. “Or, Li, it could be Perez Soto.”
It was Perez Soto.
The swarthy adventurer was standing on a lava ledge not far from the spot where Biff and Li had sighted the sunken hulk of the Sea Islander earlier in the day.
Through his powerful binoculars, he had watched every movement the boys had made. He had seen Li’s first and second dives. His glasses were of such powerful magnification he could even see the exultant expressions on the boys’ faces. He knew they had made an important discovery, and he was certain what the discovery was.
A crafty smile came over his heavy features as a plan formed in his scheming mind. He would go back to his hideout and get his henchman, Madeira. Then, quickly to his power boat, the Black Falcon, and head for the dot on the ocean where he had seen the boys.
He had little thought for Dr. Weber. The thing to do now, and do it fast, was to get out to the sunken Sea Islander and stake his salvage claim. In the case of a lost boat, or a sunken one, it was “first come, first served.” The important thing, though, was not only to take the claim, but remain in possession of it.
With his glasses still on the Easy Action, he saw one of the boys raising the anchor. He saw the yawl set a course toward Ka Lae, leaving the sunken sloop abandoned.
Too bad about Dr. Weber. Maybe someone would find him, maybe they wouldn’t. Perez Soto didn’t care. All he wanted to do now was to establish his salvage rights, and do so in the shortest possible time.
He stepped back from the ledge and started walking rapidly toward his hideout.
Thomas Brewster and Hanale Mahenili watched with torn emotions as Perez Soto threatened and tormented Dr. Weber. Both men wanted to act. Both knew, however, that to do so would not only endanger the doctor’s life, but would also jeopardize their chances of rescuing the old man.
The morning passed. Perez Soto continued his threats. But the old doctor held firm. He refused to answer any of his captor’s questions.
Madeira, Perez Soto’s henchman, kept his snub-nosed revolver steadily pointed at the doctor. Brewster and Mahenili didn’t dare try to jump the kidnapers.
About noontime, Perez Soto took the gun from Madeira. Madeira prepared some food by lighting a small fire and heating up some stew he took from a can. The smell of the steaming stew rising to the cliff where Brewster and Mahenili were hiding, sent sharp pangs of hunger rumbling through their stomachs.
Shortly after Perez Soto and Madeira had eaten, Perez Soto, as if having an afterthought, poked a spoonful of food at the doctor’s mouth. The doctor turned his head away.
“Look at that, Hank,” Brewster whispered. “I think the doctor wants to die. He’s refusing food.”
“Perhaps he feels that death is preferable to any more of Perez Soto’s threats and demands.”
About two o’clock, Perez Soto entered the cave which he was using for a hideout and emerged minutes later with a pair of binoculars slung over his shoulder.
“Guard the old man well,” he ordered. “I’ll be back before sunset.” He strode off.
Brewster whispered to Mahenili. “I think our chance will come now. We’ll let Perez Soto get well on his way, then we’ll find a way of jumping the guard.”
The time came more quickly than either man could have hoped for. Madeira, his stomach filled with stew, could be seen to yawn. They saw him shake his head to ward off sleep. Apparently feeling that there was little threat of Dr. Weber’s attempting to escape, the guard checked the ropes binding the doctor’s hands and feet. He sat down nearby, propping his back against a large boulder, the gun in his hands.
Brewster and Mahenili watched every move. They saw the guard’s head nod forward. They saw him bring it up with a jerk and shake his head from side to side in an effort to remain awake. They saw the process repeated. For the third time, the guard’s head dropped forward. This time, it stayed there.
“Now’s our chance,” Brewster said to his friend.
Mahenili nodded in the affirmative.
Brewster measured the distance between himself and the sleeping guard. The drop from the ledge to the ground in front of the cave was a good fifteen feet. From where he would land, Brewster would still have to cross a clearing of ten feet before he could reach the guard. The noise of his landing would certainly arouse the guard. Before Brewster could cross the opening to close with him, the guard would have time to raise his pistol and fire.
A plan shaped up in Thomas Brewster’s mind.
“Hank, here’s how we’ll have to do it. You crawl back. Make your way to the rear of the guard if it’s possible. Creep up as near to him as you can. Keep me in sight. When you see me leap from this ledge, you spring forward. Try to take him from the rear. Hurl a rock at him, anything. Just try to give me enough time to leap across that clearing and grapple with the guard before he can fire. Once I get my hands on him, I can handle him.”
“But if you can’t see me, Tom, how will you know when to leap?”
“It’s now two-twenty-two. I’ll make my move at exactly two-thirty. I’ll just have to trust that you’ve been able to get behind the guard. Go along now, and good luck.”
Brewster kept shifting his glance from the sleeping guard to the minute hand on his watch. It seemed that the large hand would never reach the half-hour mark. But it did.
At exactly two-thirty, Brewster stood up. He jumped. He went to his knees and rolled when he hit the ground, fifteen feet beneath him. It was a fall he had learned in his army training, one designed to prevent a broken ankle.
He leaped quickly to his feet. The guard, awakened, stood up. He was still groggy from sleep and confused. He could hear sounds from behind him, and here right in front of him, a large man was charging him.
Brewster hit Madeira with a jolting right cross before the guard could think straight. He hit the ground with a thud. Brewster was on top of him like a hungry tiger making a kill. From the rear, Mahenili sprang into the arena, spotted the pistol still in the guard’s outstretched hand, and kicked it away.
The fight was over. It had been an easy victory.
In minutes, Dr. Weber was freed, and his bonds were used to truss up the guard. As an extra precaution, Brewster used his handkerchief to gag the guard. He didn’t want him calling for help. No telling how near Perez Soto might be.
“Dr. Weber, my friend.” Brewster leaned over to help the doctor to his feet. “How are you? Are you injured in any way?”
“Mostly my dignity,” the doctor grunted gruffly.
“Are you able to walk? We must get away from here before Perez Soto returns.”
“Hurrumph!” the good doctor hurrumphed indignantly. “You youngsters seem to think I’m an old dotard, dying on my feet.”
Mr. Brewster had to smile at being called a youngster. But he was a good thirty years younger than Dr. Weber.
“Of course I can walk!” The doctor took two steps, and would have fallen if Biff’s father hadn’t caught him.
Dr. Weber glared up at his friend. “Release me. All I need is for the circulation to be restored to my legs. I’ve been tied up most of the time.” The doctor was stubborn. He gingerly raised one leg, then the other. He flapped his arms against his sides. He cautiously took another step, glancing out of the side of his eye to see if Tom Brewster was prepared to help him.
The doctor’s vitality was amazing. Brewster got him some water. He forced him to take several mouthfuls of the stew, now cold, but energy giving nonetheless.
“All right, now,” the doctor said. “You lead the way. I’ll follow.”
Brewster started off on a path leading down to the coast. Before doing so, he signaled to Mr. Mahenili to stay close behind the doctor, ready to catch him if he should fall.
Their progress downward was slow. Brewster halted every hundred yards, sometimes more often where the descent was difficult, to allow the doctor to regain his strength. Brewster knew Dr. Weber must be going along on sheer nervous energy. His frail body just wasn’t young enough to take such punishment. But Biff’s father knew also that it is amazing to just what great limits the human body can go when forced to do so.
It was dusk when the three men stumbled onto the beach opposite the Easy Action’s first anchorage. Thomas Brewster looked out over the ocean, and his heart leaped with joy. He saw the yawl coming into its anchorage, Li in the bow, ready to drop the anchor, and Biff at the tiller.
“Hi, Biff! Hi, Li!” he called.
Shouts of joy rippled across the water from Biff and Li to their fathers. The boys hopped into the dinghy and sent it fairly flying over the waves to shore.
The first thing to do was to get Dr. Weber on the boat. The old man’s stout, fierce spirit seemed to leave him once he reached the anchorage. He had exhausted his reserve strength. He was near the end of his remarkable endurance.
The others were ferried to the Easy Action. Dr. Weber was bedded down. Hot soup was prepared for the aged scientist, and shortly he was sleeping like a baby, a quite wrinkled baby, true, but his sleep was as sound and peaceful as that of a one-year-old.
Biff quickly filled his father in on what had happened. He saved until the last the discovery of the Sea Islander.
“But I think maybe Perez Soto has spotted her, too,” Biff had to add in conclusion. “I think he must have spotted us when Li was diving.”
Thomas Brewster turned to Mr. Mahenili. “That must have been why Perez Soto went away, giving us the chance to rescue Dr. Weber.”
“I’m sure it was,” the Hawaiian answered.
“Now what we’ve got to do is get back to the Sea Islander before Perez Soto does. We’ve got to hook on to the sunken boat somehow. Then we’ve got to get into her cabin and locate that metal box with the cesium sample and the map showing where the field is located.”
Brewster paused. He had to think this thing through clearly now. There could be no mistakes, no more risks. They would have to get a professional diver.
“Hank, where is the nearest town to here—a place where you can hire a professional diver? Someone with an aqualung?”
“I imagine Hilo would be the nearest place.”
“How far is that from where we are?”
“Oh, I’d say roughly seventy-five miles.”
“Any way of getting there, aside from walking?”
“Sure, Tom. I would have to walk inland until I reached the Wamalahoa Highway—that’s the road which circles the island. I know I could rent a car or taxi at Honupo Landing. Not much more than an hour’s drive from there into Hilo.”
“Right. What do you say to this? We’ll put you ashore right now. You get to Hilo. Hire a skin diver and get back here as early tomorrow morning as you can. We’ve got to get back to the Sea Islander right away. How far up the coast is she, Biff?”
“An hour. Maybe a little more. That’s pushing the yawl at full speed.”
“All right. Biff, you row Mr. Mahenili ashore. Li and I will make ready. Get back fast.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Biff grinned at his father. It was good to have someone else make the decisions for a change. And when Biff’s father went into action, he did so with a snap and precision that commanded respect.
It didn’t take Biff long to set Mr. Mahenili ashore. The dinghy was quickly secured once the boy returned, and the Easy Action headed up coast at full throttle.
“Think we can find the place in the dark, Biff?” his father asked.
“It will take a bit of doing, Dad. But we set a marking buoy over the Sea Islander, attached to one of her halyards. Good thing we did, too. We’d never be able to locate a boat on the bottom at night.”
It took more time than they had calculated to locate the marking buoy. They had to cruise the area for more than an hour before a shout from Li told them they had found it.
“Now the problem is,” Mr. Brewster said, “how are we going to hook our anchor into the sunken ship? Once we do that, there can be no doubt as to our salvage rights.”
“How about this, Dad?” Biff suggested. “Let’s drop the hook until we can feel her just touch bottom. Then we can run back and forth over the Sea Islander until we feel the anchor’s points sink into her side.”
“Good. Excellent suggestion.” Biff’s father acted at once. He brought the Easy Action about and aimed her bow directly at the marking buoy. They felt the anchor drag as it struck the submerged sloop. But on their first pass the hook didn’t catch. Mr. Brewster reversed his course. This time the hook sunk into the side of the sunken Sea Islander and held. Mr. Brewster revved up the engine, and the Easy Action tugged at her sunken sister.
“That ought to set the anchor in her side but good,” Mr. Brewster said. He cut the engine. “Try the winch, Biff. See if you can raise the anchor. I want to make sure we’re really caught onto her.”
Biff did so. He put all his strength into trying to turn the winch. The anchor was set. The Easy Action and the Sea Islander were joined by a stout, thick hawser.
It was late. Everyone, feeling happy about their success, was ready to turn in.
“Tired, Li?” Biff asked. His answer was a quick nod of his friend’s head as Li headed below for the comfort of his berth.
“I’m going to sleep on deck again tonight, Dad. Perez Soto’s boat is in these waters. I don’t think he’ll try anything tonight, but you never can tell.”
“All right, Biff. I agree. We can’t take any chances with success so near at hand.”
Biff rolled himself up in a sleeping bag and was asleep the minute he finished zipping it up. Early in the morning, an hour or more before sunrise, he was wide awake. He lay still, staring up at the sky. Stars covered it like a million white dots on a field of navy blue. A quarter moon, looking like an orange section, still hung in the sky.
A soft splash attracted Biff’s attention. He rose on one elbow and looked in the direction of the noise. It came again.
“Could be a fish jumping,” he told himself. Adjusting his eyes to the night, Biff peered more keenly toward the sound. He raised his glance, and his heart started thudding. Lying at anchor, not more than a quarter of a mile away, was the outline of a power boat. Biff was sure it was the same one which had tried to swamp the Easy Action.
Biff crept noiselessly to the stem of the yawl. He went below. Reaching his father’s berth, he shook him gently.
“Dad, Dad,” he whispered softly. “Wake up. I think someone’s trying to board the boat.”
Thomas Brewster was out of his berth in an instant. Li, hearing the noise, leaped out of his bunk, too.
Silently the three crept back to the cockpit. They raised their heads over the gunnel.
“Listen, Dad. Listen carefully. I heard a noise; sounded like a fish jumping. Right over there.”
The three strained their ears. They heard the sound again. Then they saw what was causing it. A man was swimming toward the Easy Action. They could make out his head moving slowly, but steadily along, coming toward the yawl.
When the swimmer was some twenty feet from the Easy Action, the pale light of the moon was reflected by an object the swimmer was holding in his mouth. In the brief instant of the gleam, the object became clear to them all. It was a long knife.
“What do you think he is up to, Biff?” Li asked in a whisper.
The swimmer was nearing the yawl.
“With that knife in his mouth, I don’t think there’s much doubt about it. Do you, Dad?”
“Depends on what you’re thinking, son.”
“Well, I think this is Perez Soto’s last, desperate effort to establish his salvage rights to the Sea Islander. I’m sure that’s his boat over there, just off our starboard bow. See it?”
The power cruiser, the Black Falcon, was sharply silhouetted now in the lightening dawn.
“Perez Soto’s sent that swimmer over to cut our anchor rope,” Biff continued. “Wouldn’t you agree, Dad?”
“You’re right, Biff.”
“Why would he want to do that?” Li asked.
“Well, if his man could cut our line, and we were still asleep, we’d drift. Even in the slight current that runs in these waters, we’d drift half a mile or more in a very short time. Once we were out of the way, he could easily sink his own line onto the Sea Islander and establish his rights of salvage.”
The swimmer was now only ten feet from the yawl. Biff reached down and pulled out a boathook, a long pole with a hook on one end, used to grab a mooring when coming into an anchorage.
“I’m going to hook me a human fish,” he whispered.
Biff raised the boathook. He rested its hooked end on the gunnel. The swimmer was now within hooking distance. Biff shot the boathook out. It grazed the swimmer’s head. Feeling it, the swimmer dived. Biff prodded forward with the boathook. He felt it catch. The pole bent just like a fishing pole as the swimmer tried to get away.
“Got him, Dad. Got him!” Biff shouted happily.
“You sure have, Biff. You got him right by the seat of his swimming trunks. Here, let me give you a hand.”