“I WAS plain scared and that’s how I made the mistake,” Fisty said as he paced back and forth in the narrow confines of the deckhouse.
“No one is blaming you,” Gully said quietly. He was sitting at a small table, hunched over his notebook, writing.
“No, no one’s blaming me. But it all gets written down in that little notebook of yours.” Fisty stopped pacing and pointed an accusing finger at Gully. “What’s Ellery Queen gonna say when he reads it, huh? Fisty Jones sees a skin diver and says it’s a monster from space!”
Peggy sat quietly on the sofa, her feet tucked under her. She wore a warm woolen robe, but it didn’t stop her shivering.
Gully put his pen down and turned to the girl.
“You talk to him, will you?”
“I made the same mistake,” Peggy answered. “I even screamed.”
Gully laughed and turned to look at Fisty. “Looks like we all mistook the skin diver for a space monster. Uncle Ellery will understand. It was a natural mistake.”
“Don’t forget to write down we only saw it for a flash of a second—and it was dark.”
“I wrote it down just the way it happened,” Gully assured him. He turned back to the notebook. Fisty resumed his restless pacing, his bare feet slapping on the deck.
“I’m going to bed,” Peggy said after a while. “It’s late and I’m tired and cold.”
“I want to write down everything I heard. Word for word as nearly as I can remember. By tomorrow, I might forget.”
Fisty stopped and looked at the blond boy. “Gully, what was the frogman looking for, huh?”
“I don’t know.”
“And what was that about no deliveries until the boss had the payment right in his hand, huh? Who’s the boss? What are they supposed to deliver?”
“If I could figure that out, Fisty, I’d be a pretty good detective.”
“You’d be a magician,” Peggy said. “The whole thing is more mysterious than ever.”
“It doesn’t make sense at all,” Fisty muttered.
Somewhere in the distance a dog barked several times, then stopped abruptly. Fisty went to the window. The fog swirled thickly outside.
“Could that be Banjo?” he asked.
“Mr. Merlin might be taking the dog for a walk,” Peggy said.
“So late at night?” Fisty glanced at the clock on the wall. “Past two in the morning.”
“If it’s Mr. Merlin, he’ll see the light here and maybe come over,” Gully said. “I wish he would. I’d like to talk to him about this.”
“You’d do better to talk to Inspector Queen,” Peggy said.
“And no one else.”
Gully thought for a moment. “You’re right, Peggy.”
The girl stood up. “I’m sleepy. Good night.”
She went down the companionway and a moment later the two boys heard the door of her cabin close.
Fisty rubbed his hand over his damp hair, running his fingers through the long black curls.
“How long you going to be writing?”
“I’m finished now,” Gully replied, closing the notebook.
“Let’s go to sleep.”
Gully switched off the light. In the darkness, the boys changed into their pajamas and lay down.
“We better keep mum about everything,” Fisty said. “And you better not wait for Ellery Queen to come back. Tell the Inspector the whole story.”
“Tomorrow.”
Gully sighed wearily and closed his eyes sleepily. His body ached. He did not know he had fallen asleep until he felt a hand seize his shoulder.
He opened his eyes. The room was pitch dark.
“Who is it?” He raised his head.
A powerful hand grabbed his face and squeezed his cheeks. The stab of pain made him open his mouth. Instantly a rag was thrust between his teeth.
“Be quiet, kid,” a harsh voice warned. “Or I’ll crack your skull.”
Before Gully could grasp what was happening, he was turned over and his hands and feet bound behind him. He lay helplessly and knew from the sounds near him that Fisty was also being tied up.
“The girl and the old man are in the cabins below,” the same voice whispered harshly.
“We take care of them first, then search the place.”
Two men moved stealthily to the companionway, lighting the stairs with quick stabs from a flashlight.
For a minute there was silence, then Gully heard the sounds of a struggle. Silence again, followed by the crash of dishes, the clatter of pots and pans and the thuds of furniture being overturned.
After a while the two men came up. They spoke in loud, angry tones.
“Nothing! The boss must be wrong.”
“He’s sure the brats been swimming and picked it up.”
“It ain’t downstairs, so it must be here.”
One of the men switched on the lights. Gully, lying face down turned his head. He could see only the men’s feet as they searched the deckhouse, scattering the contents of closets and drawers. They turned the sofa over and ripped up the cushions.
“It ain’t here.”
One of the men walked over to stand over Gully.
“You was out swimming tonight, wasn’t you?” he asked roughly.
“He won’t talk,” the other man said.
“I can make him talk. Five minutes, that’s all I need. I’ll beat the information out of him.”
“The boss wouldn’t like it.”
“How do you like losing your share of a million dollars?”
“I don’t.”
“Then go out and keep watch on the dock. Leave this to me.”
“All right.” The man left the deckhouse. Gully heard his footsteps as the man walked around the closed hatches of the barge, then leaped to the dock.
“All right,” the man standing over the boy said. “Now we’re gonna have a little talk. You better tell me if you was out swimming and what you found out there. Shake your head!”
Gully remained perfectly still.
The man drew back his foot, poised to kick the boy.
“What did you see?” the man raged. “I’ve gotta know if you was out there and I’m gonna get the truth outta you!”
A low whistle came from outside. The man stopped, his leg in the air. Gully thought he was about to be kicked and tensed, prepared for the pain.
But the man turned and left the deckhouse. Again the boy heard the sound of footsteps on the deck of the barge. Then silence.
Gully turned, twisting himself over until he faced Fisty. Gagged and bound, his friend lay staring at him.
For several minutes they remained in the same position. Just as Fisty began to crawl toward him, Gully heard the barking of a dog, rapidly coming closer.
There was the scratchy patter of a dog’s feet, then Banjo was all over the two boys, whining and licking their faces. Heavier footsteps approached and stopped in the doorway of the deckhouse. Gully heard a gasp, then Mr. Merlin’s voice.
“Oh, dear me! Dear me!”
The pudgy figure of the magician dropped to the deck beside Gully and the man’s quick fingers began to untie the ropes. “My goodness, boy. My goodness! What happened here?”
Mr. Merlin pulled the gag out of Gully’s mouth.
“You saved us, Mr. Merlin. Two men …”
“Ah! Yes. I saw two men running away from here. I was taking Banjo for a walk and saw your lights go on. So I thought I’d come over.”
Still dazed, Gully sat on the deck rubbing his wrists as Mr. Merlin bent over Fisty and began to loosen the ropes binding the boy.
“Where’s the Captain?” the magician asked. “And Peggy?”
“Oh, gosh!” Gully exclaimed. “They’re below.”
He jumped quickly to his feet and ran stumbling down the narrow stairway. The passageway was in confusion with clothes strewn over the deck, pots and pans and broken dishes scattered everywhere.
Gully found the Captain tied up in his bunk and quickly released him. Then, followed by the old man, he hurried to Peggy’s cabin.
“The bilge rats! The ornery, dang-blasted bilge rats!” Captain Foster raged as he helped Gully untie the girl. “I’d like to get my hands on them for just one minute, I would. I’d give them a taste of a rope’s end, I would!”
“They’re gone, Captain,” Gully said quietly.
“There, grandpa. No use you getting so upset now.”
“Peg, girl, if I get my hands on them …” The old man turned and stumped furiously up the companionway. The sight that met him there increased his anger. “Where are the police? Why hasn’t anyone called them?”
“Tomorrow will be time enough to call the police,” Mr. Merlin soothed the captain. “The robbers must be far away by now.” The magician looked about the room, “What were they searching for?”
“Whatever it was,” Fisty grinned weakly, “they sure looked hard.”
“Yes,” Mr. Merlin nodded thoughtfully. “If you have something, better tell us about it.”
“They wanted to know if we were swimming in the river,” Gully said.
“Well?” asked Mr. Merlin.
“We were in the river …”
“Aha!” the magician exclaimed triumphantly. “What did you find in the water?”
“Nothing,” Gully answered.
“Are you sure of that, Gully?” Captain Foster fixed his keen eyes on the boy.
“Yes, sir.” Gully turned to Fisty and Peggy. “Can you think of anything?”
“Nope,” Fisty said.
“Dangerous men, these,” Mr. Merlin muttered in a low voice. “Very dangerous men.”
“I know,” Gully said. “One of them was about to start kicking me to make me tell him.”
“What could you have told him?” Merlin asked, studying Gully shrewdly.
“Nothing,” Gully said. “Honest, Mr. Merlin …” He turned to Captain Foster. “We did go swimming. But we didn’t find anything.”
“Whatever they were looking for must have been in the water,” the Captain said. “Perhaps it floated down the river with the tide.”
“Dear … dear … dear! I must go now. I’ll see you youngsters tomorrow.’
Mr. Merlin hurried away on his short, pudgy legs.
“Come, Banjo. Come!” he called from outside and the little dog ran after him.
Peggy had been silently clearing away the litter. Captain Foster put his heavy hand on the girl’s shoulder.
“There’s a day’s work here, girl,” he said. “Lucky for us that magician came along. It might have been a lot worse.”
“We’ll help clean up,” Fisty said.
“Not tonight,” Peggy said, a smile slowly breaking over her face. “We’ll tidy up tomorrow.”
“We might as well get some sleep. Will you boys be all right here?”
“Yes, sir. We’ll be fine.”
Captain Foster and Peggy went below to their cabins. Fisty cleared enough space on the floor to spread out their bedding. Gully quietly stared out of the window. He watched the thick fog curl in wisps around the geranium plants in the window boxes.
“You gonna stand there all night?” Fisty asked, settling himself in his blankets.
Without turning to his friend, Gully said, “I just remembered, Fisty. We did find something in the river.”
“There was nothing but junk floating around …” Fisty’s face lighted up. “Junk! The life preserver!”
“Right! What did you do with it?”
“I tied it to the rope ladder after Peggy climbed aboard.”
“Get it, Fisty. It’s the only thing the men could possibly have been looking for.”
Fisty shucked out of his blankets and left the deck house, heading for the spot where the rope ladder hung over the side of the barge, while Gully stole quietly down the stairway. He went to the galley and found one of the kitchen knives, then returned to the deckhouse. He was waiting, knife in hand, when Fisty brought the life preserver in.
“What are you going to do, huh?”
“See if there’s anything inside.”
“Inside?”
“Well, I can’t see anything special outside.”
Gully placed the life preserver on a blanket spread out on deck. The canvas cover was old and torn in places. The name of some ship had once been stenciled on it, but now the black letters were smudged and unreadable.
Using the knife, Gully cut the canvas cover away, stripping the life preserver down to the cork. Thin lines showed where the sections of cork had been glued together. With the point of the knife, Gully pried off one section after another until he had separated most of them.
Then he stopped. The centers of the remaining sections had been hollowed out. Something was wedged in the space.
“What’s that?” Fisty leaned over, staring.
“I think this is what the men were after.”
Gully pulled out a long leather pouch and held it up. It was unusually heavy.
“Open it up, Gully. Let’s see what’s in it.”
Gully untied two leather thongs and turned the pouch over. With a faint tinkling sound, bright sparkling stones poured out on the blanket.
“Diamonds!” Fisty murmured hoarsely. “Must be a million dollars worth—maybe a couple of million, huh?”
Gully was too amazed to speak.