"Maybe the fishermen didn't want us stirring things up where they clam. Come on in and I'll fix you some coffee. I made it while you were down below." "Okay." Once inside the cabin, Scotty said softly, "Two men. On the shore. One is the bodyguard. I've never seen the other one before. Both of them have rifles." Rick considered. "They couldn't possibly know the thing--whatever it is--dropped in the water here. Or could they?" "I don't know. Anyway, they're suspicious. Did you find anything?" "Just as you signaled. How did you signal, by the way?" "With the mop pail. Four taps with the bottom on the water surface. Then I filled the pail and began swabbing down." Rick nodded. "I don't know what I found. A cylinder, maybe two inches in diameter, maybe less. Smooth. I got the fish line around it and carried the line to the shore. We'll have to come back later." "We certainly will." Scotty's eyes sparkled. "But for now, let's up anchor and get out of here." "How about the stake with the rope on it?" "The tide's still coming in. It will be completely under the water at high tide. We'll have to avoid it, and warn Harris if we don't get back tonight." An idea was beginning to form in Rick's mind. "Okay," he said. "Let's get going." Within minutes the houseboat was on its way out of the cove, the two boys acting normally, as though no one was observing their departure. Rick saw no one on shore, and not until they were sunward from the cove entrance did he see the sparkle of sunlight on binocular lenses. Scotty had been right, as usual. CHAPTER XII Night Recovery On the way back from the airport, Steve Ames listened intently to the report of the day's activities, but delayed comment until supplies had been purchased, and a dozen eggs turned into an omelet that a French chef might have praised. Rick was eager to discuss the whole affair with Steve, but the young agent was adroit at fending off questions without being rude, and finally the boy gave up. Over after-dinner coffee, Steve smiled at both of them. "End of today's lesson in patience, which is one virtue neither of you has developed sufficiently. Okay, where are those two pictures?" Scotty whipped them from the breast pocket of his shirt and handed them over without comment. Steve studied them for long minutes, then went to a table and took a magnifying glass from the table drawer. He placed the pictures directly under a lamp and studied them with the aid of the magnifier. "It _is_ Thomas Camillion," he said finally. "Your friend Sandy Allen has a sharp eye. I wouldn't have known him, either." That surprised Rick. Steve had never met the owner of Calvert's Favor, but because of Camillion's notorious reputation, Rick had been certain that Steve would recognize him on sight.