Anstey turned away to "carry on". It was his watch below. The job in No. 1 hold was merely an extra. He was still feeling the effects of his desperate efforts in the confined space, and the idea of turning in before he had had a "breather" did not appeal to him. On the lee side of the bridge he encountered Mostyn. "Hello, old thing," was Peter's greeting. "What have you been up to? You look a bit green about the gills." "Nothing much," replied Anstey. "Just been giving an eye to your father's ironmongery. Yes, it's all right. Got a cigarette? My case is down below. Thanks awfully." CHAPTER XVII The Decoy Wireless The _West Barbican's_ stay at Cape Town was of short duration. She landed about a score of her passengers and a small quantity of cargo, coaled, and proceeded, giving Peter little opportunity of a closer acquaintance with the oldest city of South Africa. He was fairly busy during the run round to Durban, since the ship was within wireless range both of Cape Town and the seaport of Natal. Consequently he spent most of his waking hours in the wireless-cabin, rather than have to be continually called by Partridge and Plover. The _West Barbican_, having spent a night at anchor under the Bluffs at Durban, proceeded alongside the quay to disembark the bulk of her passengers and a considerable amount of cargo. It was here that "Mr. Porter" severed his personal acquaintance with the ship, although his interest in the _West Barbican_ did not in the least degree wane. On the contrary it was rapidly increasing. With a Kaffir porter carrying his portmanteau and suit-case von Schoeffer passed along the gangway and gained terra firma. He had found no suitable place in which he could secrete his explosives, nor had he an opportunity for so doing; so the only course that remained open, short of dumping the stuff into the sea, was to take it ashore with him. He anticipated no difficulty in passing the Customs. None of the officials would detect in the harmless-looking slab that resembled sheet-glue one of the strongest explosives possible to obtain. They were "traveller's samples" and as such were allowed duty free. So within ten minutes of leaving the _West Barbican_ Ludwig Schoeffer was bowling along in a rickshaw, drawn by a huge, muscular Zulu "boy", en route for a small hotel that overlooked the harbour. On the following day Schoeffer's explosive, with the detonator timed for its maximum limit, was stored in No. 3 hold of the S.S. _West Barbican_, as one of the twenty odd cases of hardware consigned by the well-known firm of Van der Veld to Senhor Perez Bombardo of Beira. Simply but effectively disguised, Schoeffer saw the crate whipped on board and lowered into the hold. So far so good. It looked as if he were certain of success. He chuckled as he conjured up a mental picture of the head director of the Pfieldorf Company handing over a substantial cheque.