IT WAS already dark when Fisty arrived on the pier. A night lamp inside the deckhouse cast a weak light through the windows and over the stern.
Peggy and Gully were waiting alone, Captain Foster having retired to his cabin early. From somewhere in the distance came the hoot of a ship’s horn. Except for the soft strum of Peggy’s guitar, the night was still.
“Why so late, Fisty?” Peggy asked.
“I had a lot of things to do at home before Mom would let me come.” He dropped to the deck and sprawled out. Then he said in a troubled voice, “I think I’ve figured out what you’re up to, Gully.”
“Have you?” Peggy asked brightly. “He’s such a teasel He won’t tell me a thing.”
“Yeah, we’re going hunting for the monster.”
Peggy laid down her guitar and turned quickly to Gully. “You’re not! What a crazy thing to do.”
“Whoa! Not so fast,” Gully laughed. “We’re not going after your space monster, Fisty.”
“No? What are the swimming trunks for, huh? We’re going in the water, aren’t we?”
“Yes, but …”
“And what happens if you swim right into that horrible thing?” Peggy interrupted.
“We’ll get away from there as fast as we can,” Gully replied.
“Oh, sure! That ought to be easy.” Fisty said gloomily.
“We’ve tried to find out where the noises come from,” Gully said, standing up. “We tried on land and failed. Now I want to try from the river …”
“It’s too dangerous,” Peggy said.
“Not any more than snooping around Pier B,” Gully replied. “I’ve got to find out what makes that noise.”
“Why?” asked Peggy.
“It’s only half a fact right now. Uncle Ellery wants whole facts.”
There was no arguing with that. Fisty shrugged and frowned.
Peggy said, “I’ll dress in my cabin, you use the deckhouse.”
“You’re not going with us,” Gully insisted. “We need someone to keep watch on deck.”
“You’re just saying that because I’m a girl!”
“No.”
“I’m going with Gully,” Fisty broke into the argument. “I’m like a fish in the water. You’re not such a good swimmer, Peggy.”
Reluctantly Peggy accepted their arguments and agreed to remain on the barge. The two boys went to change into their swimming trunks. Alone, Peggy stared at the dark river, thinking of the danger her two friends were going to face in the water. Like a silent ghost, a ship moved downstream, lights shining brightly through rows of portholes.
Gully came out, walking silently on bare feet. His lanky body was deceptively thin for he was hard and wiry and had well-trained muscles. In the moonlight his blond hair appeared almost white. In sharp contrast, Fisty was a dark, chunky figure.
“When are you going in?” asked Peggy unhappily.
“As soon as we hear the noises.”
“I’m ready now,” Fisty said hoarsely.
They waited, sitting silently on the deck. The night around them was profoundly quiet. All three were startled when the ship’s clock in the deckhouse began to strike.
Peggy counted each stroke. “Eight bells,” she said in a low voice. “Twelve o’clock.”
A distant boat whistle seemed to hang on the air. Somewhere in the night there was a screech of brakes, then the roar of a car racing through the deserted streets.
No sound came from the water. They became impatient. Gully stood up. He walked to the edge of the barge and leaned over.
“Shouldn’t we be hearing the noise by now?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe they went away?” Fisty suggested hopefully.
“Who?”
“They …” Fisty repeated. “Whoever makes the noise.”
“We’ll see what happens,” Gully replied in a low voice.
He sat down on the edge of the barge and let his feet dangle over the side. He stared across at Pier B. It was a huge dark hulk standing massively over the water. The roof, rising to a height of three floors above the street, was clearly visible against the star-filled sky.
From the deckhouse one bell sounded.
“It’s twelve-thirty,” Peggy said in a pleased tone. “Nothing will happen tonight. You won’t have to swim out …”
“You know, I’m kind of glad.” Fisty sighed, then laughed softly. “Not that I’m scared, see. But I wasn’t looking forward to meeting that thing in the water.”
Gully paid no attention to them. He remained motionless, leaning forward to peer into the darkness.
“Didn’t you hear, Gully?” Fisty inquired in a louder voice. “I was saying …”
“I saw a light under Pier B,” Gully said.
Fisty pattered across the deck in his bare feet, shivering a little as he joined his friend at the edge of the barge.
“I don’t see anything.”
“There it is again!” Gully pointed.
“I saw it that time,” Peggy said.
“Yeh.” Fisty frowned. “What’s anybody doing down there?” Again there was a bright, quick flicker of light reflected in the pitch-black waters under the pier.
“I’m going to find out.”
“Maybe we ought to go to the pier first, huh?” Fisty suggested weakly. “From the street, I mean.”
“That would be just a waste of time.” Gully turned to the girl. “Have you a rope? Something I can use to get down to the water without a splash?”
“The rope ladder we used to bring Mr. Ryan up,” Peggy replied. “It’s hanging over the stern.”
Gully went to the stern and found the ladder. Turning, he felt around with his bare foot until he located the first rung. Then quickly he descended and slipped into the water.
“Wait for me.”
His teeth chattering suddenly, Fisty followed his friend down. Together the two boys pushed away from the barge. Treading water, they looked about them.
“Where to?” Fisty asked.
“Swim over to Pier B. Don’t splash.”
“Okay. Breast stroke, nice and easy.”
“Come on.”
Gully led the way, swimming soundlessly and as quickly as he could. The flickering light, seen clearly from the water, served as a guide.
Reaching the pier, Gully entered the thick darkness underneath it. Fisty joined him a moment later and the two held on to one of the heavy timber pilings which supported the dock.
“See anything?” Fisty asked in a whisper.
“Something I can’t understand. The light flashes on and off from under the street.”
“Huh?” There was wonder in Fisty’s voice. “But that’s solid rock or concrete.”
“Take a look.”
Fisty moved around the piling and peered into the darkness. West Street ended in a straight, concrete wall at the water’s edge. Reinforced concrete and wooden pilings extended into the water, supporting the platform of the pier on which the huge shed was built.
“There must be an opening of some kind there,” Fisty said.
At that moment, there was a scraping sound, followed by several sharp blows.
“The noises?” Fisty asked.
A creaky door swung out away from the concrete wall and the sharp beam of a flashlight knifed through the darkness and swept over the water.
Gully and Fisty instinctively drew back, hiding behind the piling. Then they heard a voice speaking softly.
“It’s a good job. The door swings open nice and easy.”
A rough voice laughed in the darkness. “Didn’t you think we’d be able to knock the old brickwork out in time for you?”
“Well, you did,” said the first man. “She’ll be here tomorrow night.”
“Yeh. Remember what the boss said. The stuff doesn’t move until he has the payment right in his hand.”
“He’ll be paid, all right. Don’t worry.”
“He better be. No payment, no delivery. Don’t forget it.”
Gully edged around the piling and cautiously looked toward the shore end of the pier. There was a large, round opening in the concrete wall and two men stood just inside.
“How is the stuff going to be moved?” one of the men asked.
“Easy,” the other laughed. “Leave it to the boss to figure out all the tricks.” The man wore rubber boots that reached above his knees. He waved his flashlight, sweeping the edges of the opening with light. “We’ll bring the stuff through here. Then …”
Flashing the light ahead of him, the man suddenly stepped out on the water.
The two boys gasped, expecting the man to sink down. Instead, the man was standing ankle deep in the water.
The man in the opening of the tunnel called out, “Did you hear something?”
Gully quickly ducked back behind the piling.
“Nah! It’s just me, splashing,” was the reply.
Gully again peered around the piling. This time he suppressed the cry that rose to his lips. The man was walking on water!
“We bring it out here,” the man was saying. “And get it up through here.”
The man threw the beam of his light upward. Over his head was a square of fresh lumber set in the older planking of the pier.
That’s where the dock was being repaired! The thought shot through Gully’s mind, but he made no sound. He wondered if Fisty had noticed it, too.
The man turned and went back to the opening. He climbed in and laughed harshly.
“Satisfied we can deliver?”
“Yeh. Lucky for all of us you found one of the old canals running under the streets.”
“Lucky nothing. The boss figured that out first, before he set this thing up.”
“All right. She’ll be here tomorrow. Be ready.”
“I’ll be ready.”
Gully watched as the man in boots pulled on a rope. The wooden gate swung away from the wall against which it had been resting and closed over the opening. For a few minutes, flashes of light came through cracks in the door. Then the lights disappeared. Fisty and Gully were alone in the darkness beneath the pier.
“Let’s get back,” Gully said, his teeth beginning to chatter though the water felt as warm as ever.
They swam to the barge slowly, neither of them saying a word. When they reached the rope ladder at the stern, Fisty grasped the lower rung and paused, looking at his friend.
“What kind of magic stuff was that? The man was walking … really walking on water!”
“Magic stuff is right,” Gully murmured as he climbed out.