The redhead half lifted the rifle. "Wise guy, huh? I warned you. Now cast off those lines and get out." He dropped his hand to the lever of the rifle as though to pump a cartridge into place. Scotty tensed. He said softly, "Get gay with that rifle and I'll climb up there and feed it to you breech first." Rick saw the color rise to the boy's face and the muscles in his throat tighten. "Easy, Scotty," he said warningly. He knew, as Scotty did, that no normal person would wave a rifle at anyone for mere daytime accidental trespassing, but he had a hunch the young carrot-top would not react normally. "Jimmy!" The three of them looked to the hotel as the hail came. A big man with red hair several shades darker than the boy's was waving from the side door of the Creek House. He walked toward them rapidly. "Okay, Pop," Carrottop called. "I told 'em to get out." As the man approached, Rick saw that there was a strong resemblance between the man and the boy. Evidently they were father and son. The man had the same thin lips, the same seaweed-green eyes. His face was almost square. It was a tough face, Rick thought. The newcomer looked at his son and jerked his thumb toward the hotel. "Okay, Jimmy, get into the house." The boy turned and walked off without a word. The man surveyed Rick and Scotty briefly. "Don't mind Jimmy. He was probably rude, and I'm sorry for it. But this is private property and I can't allow you to tie up here." He motioned to the high board fence along the front of the hotel. The fence ran down to the edge of the creek. "Anywhere this side of the fence is private." Rick nodded. "It didn't use to be. That's why we tied up here. I'm sorry, Mr...." "Kelso. I rented the place a few weeks ago. Haven't had time to get signs up yet." "We'll shove off right away, Mr. Kelso. Sorry we intruded." "Okay." Rick started the engine, threw the launch into reverse, and backed out. Scotty sat down beside him. "How about that?" "Funny," Rick said. "Didn't Cap'n Mike say a family named Kelso had taken the hotel because their little boy was sick and needed fresh air?" "That's what he said," Scotty affirmed. "Do you suppose that was the sick little boy?" "If he's sick," Rick said grimly, "it's trigger fever. I think he'd like to take a shot at someone." "It would sure be an effective way of discouraging trespassers. Why do you suppose they crave privacy so much?" "Beats me," Rick said. "We'll have to ask Cap'n Mike." The launch passed the edge of the Creek House fence and came to a strip of sandy beach. The road ended a few feet from the beach. A number of cars were parked in the area, and along Smugglers' Reef were the occupants, most of them standing around the wreck. "I'll run the launch in as far as I can," Risk directed, "then you jump ashore with the anchor."