As Hawkins set to work, Dickie Lang entered.
"Light haul all around," she announced. "The albacore are heading out. Looks as if we were going to have a little weather."
Gregory's expression changed quickly at her news.
"That means we've got to follow them up," he said. "We've got to have the fish. We've been putting it over on Mascola for the past few weeks and
we can't fall down now. The jobbers are watching us and we've got to show them we can deliver the goods. In addition to that I am going to enter into quite an extensive advertising campaign and when it begins to bear its fruit, we've got to have the stuff on hand to come across. There are a lot of people looking this way right now and we've got to make good."
"That's the way to talk," encouraged Hawkins. Then he smiled at the girl and nodded toward his friend. "Notice how I'm bringing him alive," he exclaimed. "He's quit 'shooting nickels' now. He's raised his sights already."
They all smiled at Hawkins' enthusiasm. Then the girl's face became serious.
"You know what going out to sea means," she said quietly. "It just about means Diablo. That's where Mascola's boats went this morning and I shouldn't wonder if they struck it out there. When they get back we'll know."
"We've got to know before that," Gregory averred. "Why not send a bunch of the boys over right away?"
Dickie shook her head with great emphasis.