was burning, all right. I thought of that, too, son."

"My name is Rick Brant. This is Don Scott. We call him Scotty."

"Knew you both," Cap'n Mike said. "I subscribe to the paper your friend writes for. Seen your pictures couple of times. Didn't you just get back from somewhere?"

"The South Pacific," Scotty said.

"Used to sail those waters. Reckon things have changed some."

"The war changed the islands," Scotty told him. "Especially...." he stopped suddenly and took Rick's arm. "Look."

The elder Kelso was standing in front of the launch.

"What do you suppose he's after?" Rick asked.

Before Scotty or Cap'n Mike could think up an answer, Kelso turned and walked back along the beach. There was a foot or two of space between the water of the creek and the hotel fence. The redheaded man slipped through it and vanished from sight.

"I'll bet he came out just to look the boat over," Scotty guessed, "and there's only one reason I can think of why he'd do that. He wanted to see if he could find out more about us."

"Unless he admired the launch and wanted a closer look at it," Rick added.

Cap'n Mike snorted. "Red Kelso's got no eye for beauty, in boats, anyway."

"Then my guess must have been right," Scotty said.

"Right or wrong," Cap'n Mike retorted, "I can't say's I like it. I wish you boys had talked to me before you decided to invade Salt Creek!"