Rick tightened the last screw that held the searchlight-telescope unit to his camera and looked at it with satisfaction. “I should get a picture,” he murmured. There were still quite a few unknown factors. He knew the theoretical power of the infrared searchlight, but only an actual test would tell whether it gave enough light for the rather slow infrared film emulsion. He was sure that it wouldn’t give enough light at its extreme range of eight hundred yards. In all probability, he would not get an image on the film at a distance greater than two hundred.

It was a little strange to think in terms of light. True, infrared was light. But it was not visible to the human eye. The searchlight would cast no beam that could be seen, although anyone close to it would be able to see dimly the hot filament of the bulb.

Another unknown was the ability of the film emulsion to register the reflected infrared rays of his particular searchlight. The emulsion had been designed originally for infrared flash bulbs. The motion-picture film had been made at his special order. It was not a stock item. He wished Professor Gordon were at Spindrift. Gordon could have measured the wave length of the searchlight on the lab equipment. Rick wasn’t skilled enough to use the delicate spectroscopic wave analyzer as yet and Hartson Brant was busy with a problem in the library and couldn’t be disturbed. He hoped he would have a chance to ask his father before he tested the camera.

He rechecked the data that had come with the film and started to do some figuring.

Scotty came in just as the phone rang downstairs. Both boys waited expectantly, and in a moment Mrs. Brant called. “It’s an out-of-town call, for either one of you.”

“We’ll take it up here, Mom,” Rick called back. He and Scotty raced for the landing.

Scotty reached the phone first. “Hello?” He nodded at Rick. “It’s Cap’n Mike.”

Something had told Rick that the call would have to do with the Seaford case. He glanced at his watch. It was almost noon.

Scotty held his hand over the mouthpiece. “He wants to know if we’re coming down today. Says he has something to talk over with us.”

Rick said quickly, “We’ll be down by boat right after lunch.”

Scotty relayed the information and hung up. “He didn’t say what it was, but he sounded worried. Wanted to know why we didn’t come down this morning.”

“Afraid of getting smacked with a fresh tuna.” Rick grinned. “By the way, did you call Jerry while I was working on the camera?”

“I sure did. He got all excited. I had to calm him down a little before he went and looked up the answer.”

Scotty had phoned at Rick’s suggestion to find out from Jerry’s newspaper sources what action to take in case they found evidence of smuggling at Seaford.

“He said to report it to the nearest Federal authorities, either the Coast Guard or FBI in this area. But he said to be sure we had something more than suspicion to go on.”

“A good idea,” Rick agreed. “It wouldn’t do to get the government all steamed up over nothing. Besides, unless we could prove it, we’d be laying ourselves open to a charge of slander. Well, let’s go see if Mom can scrape up a sandwich, and then get going for Seaford.”

It was not yet two o’clock when Cap’n Mike greeted the boys as they tied up at the old windmill pier. “Mighty glad you’re here. Boys, we’ve got to really buckle down to business.”

“What happened?” Rick asked. He and Scotty fell in step with the old captain and walked toward his shack.

“Tom Tyler’s hearing has been set for Saturday morning.”

Scotty frowned. “Today is Wednesday. That doesn’t give us much time.”

“I know it don’t. But unless we find some answers right fast, Tom will lose his license sure as shooting. And that’s not all. He’ll find himself charged by the insurance company with deliberately running the Sea Belle on the reef.”

Rick found a comfortable seat in the captain’s shack and stretched out his legs. “Let’s hold a council of war. If we’re going to do anything, we’d better have a plan of action.” He told Cap’n Mike of their suspicion that the Kelsos and Brad Marbek might be engaged in smuggling and waited for the old man’s reaction.

Cap’n Mike rubbed his chin reflectively. “Now! It could be that you boys have something there. It could just be!”

“But what would they be smuggling?” Scotty demanded.

“Shucks. I could make you a list a mile long. Most people think it’s only worth while to smuggle things like drugs or aliens, but I tell you many a tidy sum has been made by smuggling things just to escape paying duty on them.”

“Suppose they are smuggling,” Rick pointed out. “How do we prove it?”

“Catch ’em red-handed,” Scotty said. “Red-handed instead of redheaded.”

Rick and Cap’n Mike groaned in unison.

It was the decision they had reached the night before, and Rick had given some thought to it before going to sleep. “There are a couple of ways we might do that,” he said. “First of all, we know they have to get rid of the stuff somehow. We could keep watch on Creek House until it’s moved. The only trouble is, they may be letting it pile up in the hotel. That would mean sticking on the job all day and all night.”

“Not practical,” Scotty objected. “Mom would object to our staying out all night for maybe a week. Besides, we want to find the answer before the hearing Saturday morning.”

“Then how about this,” Rick continued. “We move in on them when the Albatross pulls up at Creek House to unload.”

Scotty stretched out on Cap’n Mike’s bed. “That’s fine. But how do we know when the Albatross is going to visit the Kelsos?”

“Cap’n Mike tells us. Cap’n, according to what you said when we were here before, the Albatross sometimes stays at Creek House until almost midnight. That means that it takes them awhile to unload whatever they’re smuggling.”

Scotty had an objection. “If they were doing any unloading, wouldn’t you have seen them, Cap’n Mike?”

The old seaman shook his head. “Nope. I didn’t dare get close enough to see what was going on. Besides, my eyes ain’t what they were at night. I just sat off the end of Salt Creek, letting the reeds hide me, and saw what I could, which wasn’t much. If I’d gone up the creek any distance, they’d have spotted me against the sea.”

Rick finished, “So you see, if Cap’n Mike could keep an eye on the creek, he’d know when the Albatross arrived. If he phoned us right away, we could be here within an hour, or even a half-hour, if we took the fast boat.”

“Sounds sensible,” Scotty admitted. “Any other plans?”

“Just one, which isn’t very practical. We could get someone to fly out over the fleet during the most likely hours and wait for the Albatross to make contact with the supply ship. I wish we could fly at night, but we can’t. The contact has to be during the darkness, and I think before dawn is the best time. If Brad Marbek made contact after he got through fishing, some of the other trawlers might see the ship coming. Then they might get curious and hang around to see why Brad was hanging back. Maybe that’s what Tom Tyler did.”

“But if he left and made contact before dawn, the others might think nothing of it. I don’t suppose they all leave at once, do they?” Scotty asked the captain.

“Nope. They don’t all leave at once, but they usually come back at the same time. And Brad has been coming back as far as Salt Creek with the rest. So I guess Rick guessed right.”

Cap’n Mike did some figuring. “Tell you what. I can sit on the beach at the edge of town with a pair of night glasses. I’ll borrow some. I can tell if a ship turns up Salt Creek by its running lights. Afterwards, I’ll have to go a block and use the phone at Fetty’s Drug Store. We’ll start tonight.”

Scotty got up and yawned. “That’s settled. Now I’d like to look into something. We can’t overlook any possible lead. Rick, remember the tower?”

“Yes.” Rick got to his feet, too. “And I remember something else. That business about the shifting current and the light. Cap’n, have you talked to Captain Killian?”

“Not yet, but I surely will today. That may be worth something.” He walked with them toward the pier. “But what’s this tower business?”

Rick explained briefly. “We’ll stop there on the way back to Spindrift.”

“Phone us if Captain Killian has anything interesting to say,” Scotty requested.

“I will. Now you boys be careful. Keep a weather eye out, and don’t forget those warnings.”

“We’re not likely to,” Rick assured him.

As they sped past the Seaford water front toward Smugglers’ Reef, Rick plotted a plan of action. First, if they were to spy on Creek House, they needed to know a little more about the area. He assumed that they would hurry from Spindrift by boat, since it would take too long to go to Whiteside and try to get a car. The Cub was out; there was no place to land at Seaford.

The best way of finding a good hide-out from which to watch the Kelsos would be to take a photograph from the air. He could do that this very afternoon and develop it at home. An enlargement, which the photo lab at Spindrift was equipped to make, would be better than a map.

He felt better now that they had an objective. But! “Suppose the Albatross doesn’t do any smuggling before Saturday?” he asked Scotty.

“Tough luck. Captain Tyler will just have to suffer a while longer. Besides, this is only a hearing. If he’s tried, it won’t be until later.”

“Guess that’s right,” Rick agreed. He swung the launch around the tip of Smugglers’ Reef, past the light and the wreck of the Sea Belle. For the first time since the fatal night, there was no one at the trawler or on the reef. He put the launch close in shore at the sandy strip near the Creek House fence, and Scotty jumped to the beach with the anchor as before.

Rick joined him on the sand. “Now for a look at the tower. Where did you see the marks?”

Scotty pointed to the rusted structure. There were four upright girders slanting inward from the base to where the top platform had been. Horizontal girders held the structure together one-third and two-thirds of the way up. “The marks are on the first row of cross-pieces,” he said. “On this side.”

The steel climbing ladder was on the Seaford, or opposite side, of the tower halfway between the uprights. Rick looked at it dubiously. “It’s pretty rusty. Think it will bear our weight?”

“Maybe only one of us had better go,” Scotty conceded. “I’ll try it.”

Rick looked at his friend’s solid frame and shook his head. “I’m the lightest. I’d better do it.”

“You’re not that much lighter,” Scotty objected. “Tell you what, let’s flip for it.”

“Okay.” Rick produced a coin, tossed it in the air, and called, “Tails.”

It was. Scotty picked up the coin and turned it over, as though making sure it wasn’t tails on both sides, then handed it to Rick with a grin. “Can you always call your shots like that?”

“Only on Wednesdays.” He gestured toward the high board fence that cut them off from Creek House. “Look, just to be on the safe side, you keep an eye open for the Kelsos. If you see them coming, give me a yell. I don’t think they’d dare try anything in broad daylight, but you can never tell.”

“All right. I’ll stick near the boat.”

As Scotty walked back to the launch, Rick went to the base of the tower and looked up. The frame seemed secure enough in spite of the rust. He jumped for the first rung of the ladder and hauled himself up. In a moment he was on the horizontal girder. The scratches Scotty had seen from the air were clearly visible. To reach them, he had to work around the girders to the opposite side. He stood up and found his balance, then walked easily to the corner girder, rounded it and crossed to the other side. The marks were only a few feet away.

The upper stories of Creek House were on and above his level now. He could look right into the windows of the second floor except that the windows were so dirty that he couldn’t see much. Suddenly he froze. One of the second-floor windows was being raised. He saw a vague figure behind it, but it was dark in the room and he couldn’t see clearly. There was no reason to be disturbed about it, yet he felt a quick wave of apprehension. He had better look over the scratches and get out.

Holding on to the corner girder, he crouched and leaned outward toward the marks. There were two bright scratches about a foot apart. Between them the entire rust surface had been disturbed. Something had rested there, or, more likely, it had been clamped. He swung back a little to look at the inner side of the girder and saw continuations of the scratches that terminated in round spots. When he leaned forward to look at the outer side, the marks were there, but so slight that they wouldn’t be noticeable unless one were looking for them.

His brows creased. He couldn’t think of anything that would make marks just like those. He wished he had brought a camera. A photo would have given them something to study later.

Then, as he turned and started back, something whistled over his head and slapped sharply into the upright girder. His first thought was that Scotty had thrown a pebble or something to attract his attention, but when he looked, Scotty was facing the other way.

The whistle and slap came again. This time he looked up, and the strength drained from his knees. A few inches over his head were silvery splashes against the rusty surface, and they were the silvery marks of splattered lead!

He was being shot at!

Rick reacted like a suddenly released spring. He dropped to his knees, his hands reaching for a hold on the girder. They hooked over the inner edge and he rolled free on the opposite side. For an instant he dangled in space, then he dropped, his knees flexing to take the shock of landing. It wasn’t much of a drop, a little over fourteen feet. And as he dropped he yelled Scotty’s name.

Scotty started for him on a dead run, but Rick’s yell stopped him.

“Start the boat and cast off!”

Then Rick’s legs flew as he ran for the launch. For the moment, both of them were cut off from Creek House by the high board fence. But to get clear they would have to come out of the fence shelter and into the view of the second-floor sniper once more. He planned as he ran, and as he jumped across the water to the launch, he gasped, “Stay close to the reef and pick up speed. Get going.”

The launch was already in motion. Rick dropped into the seat next to Scotty and his pal pushed the gas pedal all the way. The nose lifted and the stern dug in.

Rick turned to watch, and as the second floor of Creek House came into view, he said, “Give it all you’ve got. Cut sharply across Salt Creek and the rushes will cover us.”

“Hang on!” Scotty snapped. He threw the wheel hard over and the launch rocked up like a banking plane, then he leveled off and the boat shot across the creek’s mouth to safety. Only then did he turn to Rick. “What happened?”

“Someone took two shots at me,” Rick replied shakily. “And dollars to dill pickles it was our pal Carrots, because I didn’t hear the shots.”

“That air rifle,” Scotty said. His mouth tightened. “I can’t wait to get my hands on that little playmate. Did he miss you by much?”

“About six inches. Both shots hit the same place, within an inch of each other.”

Scotty frowned thoughtfully. “Then my guess is that he wasn’t trying to hit you. If he’s good enough to place two shots like that, he wouldn’t have any trouble picking you off. Did you see him?”

“No. I saw a window open just before I got down to look at the marks.”

“Anything to them?”

“I don’t know,” Rick said. He was still a little shaken. “Listen, what about reporting this to the police?”

Scotty shook his head. “No proof. No witnesses. It would be your word against his, because he could claim he was just target practicing and that you weren’t on the tower when he fired. He could even claim he didn’t fire the shots, because the slugs would be so spattered that the police couldn’t make anything of them.”

“I can see him laughing his head off,” Rick said bitterly. “First, because of dumping the fish scoop, and now because he sent us hightailing out of there like a couple of frightened jack rabbits.”

“It would have been stupid to stay and get shot at,” Scotty pointed out. “Even if he is a good shot, he might accidentally clip you.”

Rick had to admit the truth of that. “Just the same,” he said, “we’re going back and build a fire under Mister Carrots. Wait and see!”