“I’ve been watching the barge movements.” “Oh, yes. I’ve wondered if that could be done.” “Punaro takes the stuff off to the dump every second morning. He uses a fast little motor boat for towing, which ought to make the haul in about an hour over to the dump and another hour back.” “Is that his schedule?” “Oh, no! He leaves at dawn and barely gets back to the hospital in time for chow at noon. Last time I had a day off I made it my business to watch his movements.” “Does anybody go with him?” “No. It’s really a one-man job, which suits his purpose very well. I figure Punaro has at least two hours leeway to contact his accomplices.” They rowed past the hospital and soon turned south through the marsh-bordered inlet. The water was rather choppy and there were ragged, wind-swept clouds overhead, but neither of them were afraid of a little rain. They were almost in sight of the pines on Terrapin Island when Kitty said, “There’s probably someone else upstairs in the hospital who’s involved in all this—someone besides Cary and Punaro.” “What makes you think that?” She had to be careful not to reveal anything her father had told her. But she thought Brad might be in a position to pick up information her father couldn’t get. “If Punaro is actually supplying the subs with fresh food, doesn’t it seem possible they might take other things, too—medical supplies, for instance?” “You’re right. I hadn’t thought of that.” Brad’s pull on the oars quickened as his thoughts raced ahead with this new idea. “Slow up!” exclaimed Kitty, when she was out of breath trying to keep in rhythm. “This is no marathon, you know.” Brad suddenly drew in his oar and turned to face her. She was glad enough to drift for a few minutes and rest. “Kitty, now that you mention that fact I recall seeing Punaro talking several times with Petty Officer Brinson.” “Brinson?” “One of the ward attendants. I thought it was only about clearing the trash from the wards. But I bet Brinson could get away with plenty if he had a mind to.” “I’m glad you told me about him, Brad. I haven’t had a chance to tell you I talked to Dad about all this.” “You did?” Kitty nodded. “I was so unhappy about it all when Billy got sick. I felt that somehow I was to blame, so I just told Dad everything.” “What did he think?” “Plenty!” “I mean what does he think we ought to do with all this information we’ve been picking up?” “He didn’t say. You know a man in his position can’t say much, even to his daughter.” “That’s true, of course.” “The inspector’s coming down soon, he said. I have a feeling he plans to take it up with him.” Kitty decided she had better change the subject, for fear it might slip out that her father was dangerously involved. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Illustration: _Brad Suddenly Turned to Kitty_] ------------------------------------------------------------------------