"Quite a ways. Jim was pretty close in front of me, but Brad was almost out of my sight. Don't know how close he followed Tom." Cap'n Mike spat over the side. "Sad business, anyway," he said. "Well, Bill, I'm taking these lads on a little tour of the pier. Reckon we'll be pushing along. Looks like you'll be busy unloading for an hour or so." The boys shook hands with Captain Lake again, then followed their guide to the pier once more. Cap'n Mike waited until a scoopful of menhaden had passed overhead then led the way down the pier. "I wonder if Captain Killian got set off course by that current," Rick mused. "I'd like to talk to him." Cap'n Mike shot a glance at him. "Might be interesting at that. You thinking the same as I am?" "We all are," Scotty replied. "That business about losing the light and having the current set him off course sounded kind of strange." "Is he a good guy?" Rick queried. "Best there is. If he says it, it happened. But it's mighty funny just the same. Reckon we'll have to find Jim Killian." They passed three trawlers, all unloading, and Rick recognized names that Scotty had read aloud during their brief flight over the fleet. Many of the men they passed hailed Cap'n Mike. Evidently he was well known to the fisherman and pier workers. Suddenly the old man stopped. "There's Brad Marbek's craft." The next trawler in line was the _Albatross_. Rick looked it over critically. It was indistinguishable from the others. There was the same cabin, set well forward, the same large working space aft, the same net booms. It was no dirtier nor cleaner than the others. Evidently it was filled with fish, because only the top Plimsoll number was showing. But the skipper was far from average. Brad Marbek, as Rick saw him on the deck overhead, was a bull of a man. He was about six feet tall, but his width made him look shorter. His shoulder span would have done credit to a Percheron horse, and from his shoulders his torso dropped in almost a straight line. His waist lacked only an inch or two of being as wide as his shoulders. His legs were short and thick and planted wide on the deck. His head was massive and set squarely on his shoulders with hardly any neck. He was hatless and his coarse black hair, cropped short, stood straight up like a vegetable brush. His face was weathered to a dark mahogany color. "Not very pretty, is he?" Scotty whispered. That, Rick thought, was a masterpiece of understatement. He started to tell Scotty that compared with Brad Marbek a Hereford bull was downright winsome, but at that moment Cap'n Mike hailed the _Albatross_. "Howdy, Brad. How's fish?" The skipper's reply was cordial enough. "Howdy, Cap'n Mike. Took another good haul today. Just startin' to unload." Marbek's black eyes surveyed the two boys briefly, then evidently dismissed them as of no importance. "Come on aboard."