White Bluffs spokesman. [volume] (White Bluffs, Wash.) 1907-1938, 1935-04-25

fisherman trained to duck in and out
of his hole in the wall, then give him .
a course of sub-chasing and mine
sweeping in and about Belle Isle and
Quiberon, where for rocks the chart
is like chessboard with the pieces
we'll scattered, and the game no diff
ferent, then on top of that a post grad
uate course of longshore bootlegging,
and you've got a downy bird that it
isn't easy to take.
Tom nodded "He was just having
fun with me- He's got hep that you
and your father are on the ground and
he doesn't mean to fool away any
more time We'd better not, either, or
we're apt to get around there and find
that Sebastien has sucked the eggs.
He's heading that way right now"
IT fancy you're right, Tom. Well,
then, the good old Fourquet is lying
plump on the Corvette ledge, a little
more than two-thirds out on line
from the Whale to the black buoy"
"Wha-at?"
Fright, old chap. I've sounded her
out so that could make drawing Of
her to scale She's precisely where my
august ancestor charted her. Sebastien
must know that Anyhow, he could
guess, because there's patch of algae
that you can see at low tide, smack
over her"
"But-hold on, Bob. If she hit the
ledge"
"she didn't Robert interrupted.
"She hit McFarlane's LEDGE about
quarter of a mile to the north'a ard,
then drifted out with the tide, sinking.
She rolled over on the Corvette ledge
and stuck there. Sebastien must have
heard all that through the speaking
/ tube when papa and I discussed it
aboard my hooker. But he wanted to
verify it, just as we did"
"Then what on earth were you and
your father up to yesterday?" Tom de-
| manded.
eve wanted to get a bearing on the
spot from the shore, so that we could
determine it at night from a dim light
in the rocks. Mine-laying methods. I'm
a bit of crack at that game"
WELL" Tom said slowly, "this sure
saves me days and days of fruitless
toll. I stood about as much chance
| of finding her as would of finding
palm trees at the North pole. Then
| that's where Sebastien is digging out
for now"
II should say so. This black bean
soup is just his affair. His sort of
| johnny is combination of shark, seal
and sea gull"
"Well, then, let's fire up and go
along, too," Tom said
| Hadn't we better wait for daylight"
Reckon there's no need 7 know my
own front yard. Well take it easy SOS
| fn l,it ,i~,or %1~ Ia
"But we shall have to get a COM
pass
Don't need it. More apt to put you
off, rock dodgin' in little boat"
He started the engine and slowed
it. At speed of about four miles an
hour they started to poke their way
through the impenatrable murk. The
breakers that lash perpetually, fair
weather and foul, across the fearful
rocks of Pemaquid point were their
most pressing menace, but the long
e-reaching ground swell served as
guide of direction. Tom stopped twice
to listen to the growl. Then light
blurred through the fog, and the audi
BILE warnings guided them.
An hour passed. The faintest light
was by this time beginning to infuse
the gloom. Tom raised the boats speed
! to its normal and headed for what he
correctly reckoned to be the entrance
to the Gut.
The dawn was coming steadily, and
presently they saw through the whiten-
ing mist the trees on either side of
the narrowing entrance. Several min
utes later the drab sides of houses ap-
peared just ahead. Tom g1ided up to
the float of a gasoline station, and as
he did so received shock For on
the other side of it lay big heavy
yaWl-rigged boat, her square stern pro-
jecting toward him, and across this
was painted in dingy lettering: annie
NJ" and beneath it, Friendship, Me.