The breeze had fallen and the shining sea was smooth as glass when the launch passed Adexe. Dick, who lounged at the helm, was not going there. Some alterations to a mole along the coast had just been finished, and Stuyvesant had sent him to engage the contractor who had done the concrete work. Jake, who occasionally found his duties irksome, had insisted on coming.

As they crossed the mouth of the inlet, Dick glanced shorewards through his glasses. The whitewashed coal-sheds glistened dazzlingly, and a fringe of snowy surf marked the curve of beach, but outside this a belt of cool, blue water extended to the wharf. The swell surged to and fro among the piles, checkered with purple shadows and laced with threads of foam, but it was the signs of human activity that occupied Dick’s attention. He noticed the cloud of dust that rolled about the mounds of coal upon the wharf and blurred the figures of the toiling peons, and the way the tubs swung up and down from the hatches of an American collier until the rattle of her winches suddenly broke off.

“They seem to be doing a big business,” he remarked. “It looks as if that boat had stopped discharging, but she must have landed a large quantity of coal.”

“There’s pretty good shelter at Adexe,” Jake replied. “In ordinary weather, steamers can come up to the wharf, instead of lying a quarter of a mile off, as they do at Santa Brigida. However, there’s not much cargo shipped, and a captain who wanted his bunkers filled would have to make a special call with little chance of picking up any freight. That must tell against the place.”

They were not steaming fast, and just before a projecting point shut in the inlet the deep blast of a whistle rang across the water and the collier’s dark hull swung out from the wharf. A streak of foam, cut sharply between her black side and the shadowed blue of the sea, marked her load-line, and she floated high, but not as if she were empty.

“Going on somewhere else to finish, I guess,” said Jake. “How much do you reckon she has discharged?”

“Fifteen hundred tons, if she was full when she came in, and I imagine they hadn’t much room in the sheds before. I wonder where Kenwardine gets the money, unless his friend, Richter, is rich.”

“Richter has nothing to do with the business,” Jake replied. “He was to have had a share, but they couldn’t come to a satisfactory agreement.”

Dick looked at him sharply. “How do you know?”

“I really don’t know much. Kenwardine said something about it one night when I was at his house.”

“Did somebody ask him?”

“No,” said Jake, “I don’t think so. The subject, so to speak, cropped up and he offered us the information.”

Then he talked of something else and soon afterwards the coast receded as they crossed a wide bay. It was about four o’clock in the afternoon when they reached the farthest point from land. There was no wind, and in the foreground the sea ran in long undulations whose backs blazed with light. Farther off, the gentle swell was smoothed out and became an oily expanse that faded into the glitter on the horizon, but at one point the latter was faintly blurred. A passing vessel, Dick thought, and occupied himself with the engine, for he had not brought the fireman. Looking round some time afterwards, he saw that the ship had got more distinct and picked up his glasses.

She was a two-masted steamer and, cut off by the play of reflected light, floated like a mirage between sky and sea. After studying her for a minute, Dick gave Jake the glasses.

“It’s a curious effect, but not uncommon on a day like this,” he said. “She’s like the big Spanish boats and has their tall black funnel.”

“She’s very like them,” Jake agreed. “There’s no smoke, and no wash about her. It looks as if they’d had some trouble in the engine-room and she’d stopped.”

Dick nodded and glanced across the dazzling water towards the high, blue coast. He did not think the steamer could be seen from the land, and the launch would, no doubt, be invisible from her deck, but this was not important and he began to calculate how long it would take them to reach a point ahead. Some time later, he looked round again. The steamer was fading in the distance, but no smoke trailed behind her and he did not think she had started yet. His attention, however, was occupied by the headland he was steering for, because he thought it marked the neighborhood of their port.

He spent an hour in the place before he finished his business and started home, and when they were about half-way across the bay the light began to fade. The sun had sunk and the high land cut, harshly blue, against a saffron glow; the sea was shadowy and colorless in the east. Presently Jake, who sat facing aft, called out:

“There’s a steamer’s masthead light coming up astern of us. Now I see her side lights, and by the distance between them she’s a big boat.”

Dick changed his course, because the steamer’s three lights would not have been visible unless she was directly following him and the launch’s small yellow funnel and dingy white topsides would be hard to distinguish. When he had shut out one of the colored side lights and knew he was safe, he stopped the engine to wait until the vessel passed. There was no reason why he should do so, but somehow he felt interested in the ship. Lighting his pipe, he studied her through the glasses, which he gave to Jake.

“She’s the boat we saw before,” he said.

“That’s so,” Jake agreed. “Her engines are all right now because she’s steaming fast.”

Dick nodded, for he had marked the mass of foam that curled and broke away beneath the vessel’s bow, but Jake resumed: “It looks as if her dynamo had stopped. There’s nothing to be seen but her navigation lights and she’s certainly a passenger boat. They generally glitter like a gin-saloon.”

The ship was getting close now and Dick, who asked for the glasses, examined her carefully as she came up, foreshortened, on their quarter. Her dark bow looked very tall and her funnel loomed, huge and shadowy, against the sky. Above its top the masthead light shed a yellow glimmer, and far below, the sea leapt and frothed about the line of hull. This drew out and lengthened as she came abreast of them, but now he could see the tiers of passenger decks, one above the other, there was something mysterious in the gloom that reigned on board. No ring of light pierced her long dark side and the gangways behind the rails and rows of stanchions looked like shadowy caves. In the open spaces, forward and aft, however, bodies of men were gathered, their clothes showing faintly white, but they stood still in a compact mass until a whistle blew and the indistinct figures scattered across the deck.

“A big crew,” Jake remarked. “Guess they’ve been putting them through a boat or fire drill.”

Dick did not answer, but when the vessel faded into a hazy mass ahead he started the engine and steered into her eddying wake, which ran far back into the dark. Then after a glance at the compass, he beckoned Jake. “Look how she’s heading.”

Jake told him and he nodded. “I made it half a point more to port, but this compass swivels rather wildly. Where do you think she’s bound?”

“To Santa Brigida; but, as you can see, not direct. I expect her skipper wants to take a bearing from the Adexe lights. You are going there and her course is the same as ours.”

“No,” said Dick; “I’m edging in towards the land rather short of Adexe. As we have the current on our bow, I want to get hold of the beach as soon as I can, for the sake of slacker water. Anyway, a big boat would keep well clear of the shore until she passed the Tajada reef.”

“Then she may be going into Adexe for coal.”

“That vessel wouldn’t float alongside the wharf, and her skipper would sooner fill his bunkers where he’d get passengers and freight.”

“Well, I expect we’ll find her at Santa Brigida when we arrive.”

They looked round, but the sea was now dark and empty and they let the matter drop. When they crossed the Adexe bight no steamer was anchored near, but a cluster of lights on the dusky beach marked the coaling wharf.

“They’re working late,” Dick said. “Can you see the tug?”

“You’d have to run close in before you could do so,” Jake replied. “I expect they’re trimming the coal the collier landed into the sheds.”

“It’s possible,” Dick agreed, and after hesitating for a few moments held on his course. He remembered that one can hear a launch’s engines and the splash of torn-up water for some distance on a calm night.

After a time, the lights of Santa Brigida twinkled ahead, and when they steamed up to the harbor both looked about. The American collier and a big cargo-boat lay with the reflections of their anchor-lights quivering on the swell, but there was no passenger liner to be seen. A man came to moor the launch when they landed, and Jake asked if the vessel he described had called.

“No, seÑor,” said the man. “The only boats I know like that are the Cadiz liners, and the next is not due for a fortnight.”

“Her model’s a pretty common one for big passenger craft,” Jake remarked to Dick as they went up the mole. “Still, the thing’s curious. She wasn’t at Adexe and she hasn’t been here. She certainly passed us, steering for the land, and I don’t see where she could have gone.”

Dick began to talk about something else, but next morning asked Stuyvesant for a day’s leave. Stuyvesant granted it and Dick resumed: “Do you mind giving me a blank order form? I’m going to Adexe, and the storekeeper wants a few things we can’t get in Santa Brigida.”

Stuyvesant signed the form. “There it is. The new coaling people seem an enterprising crowd, and you can order anything they can supply.”

Dick hired a mule and took the steep inland road; but on reaching Adexe went first to the sugar mill and spent an hour with the American engineer, whose acquaintance he had made. Then, having, as he thought, accounted for his visit, he went to the wharf and carefully looked about as he made his way to the manager’s office.

A few grimy peons were brushing coal-dust off the planks, their thinly-clad forms silhouetted against the shining sea. Their movements were languid, and Dick wondered whether this was due to the heat or if it was accounted for by forced activity on the previous night. A neatly built stack of coal stood beside the whitewashed sheds, but nothing suggested that it had been recently broken into. Passing it carelessly Dick glanced into the nearest shed, which was almost full, though its proximity to deep water indicated that supplies would be drawn from it before the other. Feeling rather puzzled, he stopped in front of the next shed and noted that there was much less coal in this. Moreover, a large number of empty bags lay near the entrance, as if they had been used recently and the storekeeper had not had time to put them away.

Two men were folding up the bags, but, by contrast with the glitter outside, the shed was dark, and Dick’s eyes were not accustomed to the gloom. Still he thought one of the men was Oliva, the contractor whom Stuyvesant had dismissed. Next moment the fellow turned and threw a folded bag aside, after which he walked towards the other end of the shed. His movements were leisurely, but he kept his back to Dick and the latter thought this significant, although he was not sure the man had seen him.

As he did not want to be seen loitering about the sheds, he walked on, feeling puzzled. Since he did not know what stock the company had held, it was difficult to tell if coal had recently been shipped, but he imagined that some must have left the wharf after the collier had unloaded. He was used to calculating weights and cubic quantities, and the sheds were not large. Taking it for granted that the vessel had landed one thousand five hundred tons, he thought there ought to be more about than he could see. Still, if some had been shipped, he could not understand why it had been taken, at a greater cost for labor, from the last shed, where one would expect the company to keep their reserve supply. He might, perhaps, find out something from the manager, but this would need tact.

Entering the small, hot office, he found a suave Spanish gentleman whom he had already met. The latter greeted him politely and gave him a cigar.

“It is not often you leave the works, but a change is good,” he said.

“We’re not quite so busy and I promised to pay Allen at the sugar mill a visit,” Dick replied. “Besides, I had an excuse for the trip. We’re short of some engine stores that I dare say you can let us have.”

He gave the manager a list, and the Spaniard nodded as he marked the items.

“We can send you most of the things. It pays us to stock goods that the engineers of the ships we coal often want; but there are some we have not got.”

“Very well,” said Dick. “I’ll fill up our form for what you have and you can put the things on board the tug the first time she goes to Santa Brigida.”

“She will go in three or four days.”

Dick decided that as the launch had probably been seen, he had better mention his voyage.

“That will be soon enough. If our storekeeper had told me earlier, I would have called here yesterday. I passed close by on my way to Orava.”

“One of the peons saw your boat. It is some distance to Orava.”

“The sea was very smooth,” said Dick. “I went to engage a contractor who had been at work upon the mole.”

So far, conversation had been easy, and he had satisfactorily accounted for his passing the wharf, without, he hoped, appearing anxious to do so; but he had learned nothing yet, although he thought the Spaniard was more interested in his doings than he looked.

“The collier was leaving as we went by,” he resumed. “Trade must be good, because she seemed to have unloaded a large quantity of coal.”

“Sixteen hundred tons,” said the manager. “In war time, when freights advance, it is wise to keep a good stock.”

As this was very nearly the quantity Dick had guessed, he noted the man’s frankness, but somehow imagined it was meant to hide something.

“So long as you can sell the stock,” he agreed. “War, however, interferes with trade, and the French line have reduced their sailings, while I expect the small British tramps won’t be so numerous.”

“They have nothing to fear in these waters.”

“I suppose they haven’t, and vessels belonging to neutral countries ought to be safe,” said Dick. “Still, the Spanish company seem to have changed their sailings, because I thought I saw one of their boats yesterday; but she was a long way off on the horizon.”

He thought the other gave him a keen glance, but as the shutters were partly closed the light was not good, and the man answered carelessly:

“They do not deal with us. Adexe is off their course and no boats so large can come up to the wharf.”

“Well,” said Dick, who believed he had admitted enough to disarm any suspicion the other might have entertained, “doesn’t coal that’s kept exposed to the air lose some of its heating properties?”

“It does not suffer much damage. But we will drink a glass of wine, and then I will show you how we keep our coal.”

“Thanks. These things interest me, but I looked into the sheds as I passed,” Dick answered as he drank his wine.

They went out and when they entered the first shed the Spaniard called a peon and gave him an order Dick did not catch. Then he showed Dick the cranes, and the trucks that ran along the wharf on rails, and how they weighed the bags of coal. After a time they went into a shed that was nearly empty and Dick carefully looked about. Several peons were at work upon the bags, but Oliva was not there. Dick wondered whether he had been warned to keep out of sight.

As they went back to the office, his companion looked over the edge of the wharf and spoke to a seaman on the tug below. Her fires were out and the hammering that came up through the open skylights indicated that work was being done in her engine-room. Then one of the workmen seemed to object to something another said, for Dick heard “No; it must be tightened. It knocked last night.”

He knew enough Castilian to feel sure he had not been mistaken, and the meaning of what he had heard was plain. A shaft-journal knocks when the bearings it revolves in have worn or shaken loose, and the machinery must have been running when the engineer heard the noise. Dick thought it better to light a cigarette, and was occupied shielding the match with his hands when the manager turned round. A few minutes later he stated that as it was a long way to Santa Brigida he must start soon and after some Spanish compliments the other let him go.

He followed the hill road slowly in a thoughtful mood. The manager had been frank, but Dick suspected him of trying to show that he had nothing to hide. Then he imagined that a quantity of coal had been shipped since the previous day, and if the tug had been at sea at night, she must have been used for towing lighters. The large vessel he had seen was obviously a passenger boat, but fast liners could be converted into auxiliary cruisers. There were, however, so far as he knew, no enemy cruisers in the neighborhood; indeed, it was supposed that they had been chased off the seas. Still, there was something mysterious about the matter, and he meant to watch the coaling company and Kenwardine.