"Twenty-two after," said Paddock finally, and turned toward the engine. "Heaven grant that red light is on view. This is getting on my nerves." Slyly the little launch poked its nose around the corner of the island and peeped at the majestic _Lileth_. Paddock snorted. "Not a trace of it." "I must have underestimated the time," said Minot. "Wha--what's that?" "That? That's only thunder. Oh, this is going to be a pretty party!" Suddenly the heavens blazed with lightning. The swell of the waters increased. Hastily Paddock backed the boat from the range of the _Lileth's_ vision. "Trimmer must go soon," cried Minot. Fifteen minutes passed in eloquent silence. The lightning and the thunder continued. "Try it again," Minot suggested. Again they peeped. And still no red light on the _Lileth_. And even as they looked, out of the black heavens swept a sheet of stinging rain. It lashed down on that frail tossing boat with cruel force; it obscured the _Lileth_, the island, everything but the fact of its own damp existence. In two seconds the men unprotected in that tiny launch were pitiful dripping figures, and the glory of Mr. Paddock's evening clothes departed never to return. "A fortune-teller in Albuquerque," said poor old George, "told me I was to die of pneumonia. It'll be murder, gentlemen--plain murder." "It's suicide, too, isn't it?" snarled Paddock. "That ought to satisfy you." "I'm sorry," said Minot through chattering teeth. No answer. The downfall continued. "The rain is raining everywhere," quoted Paddock gloomily. "It falls on the umbrellas here, and on the ships at sea. Damn the ships at sea." "Here, here," said poor old George. A damp doleful pause. "Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for a friend," continued Paddock presently. "A thousand apologies," Minot said. "But I'm running the same chances, Jack." "Yes--but it's your party--your happy little party," replied Paddock. "Not mine." Minot did not answer. He was as miserable as the others, and he could scarcely blame his friend for losing temporarily his good nature. "It's after eleven," said Paddock, after another long pause. "Put in closer to the _Lileth_," suggested Minot. Mr. Paddock fumbled about beneath the canvas cover of the engine, and they put in. But still no red light aboard the yacht. "I'd give a thousand dollars," said Paddock, "to know what's going on aboard that boat." The knowledge would hardly have been worth the price he offered. Aboard the _Lileth_, on the forward deck under a protecting awning, Mr. Trimmer sat firmly planted in a chair. Beside him, in other chairs, sat three prominent citizens of San Marco--one of them the chief of police. Mr. Martin Wall was madly walking the deck near by. "Going to stay here all night?" he demanded at last.