Dickie hesitated. Then she answered simply. "Because I never felt as if I knew you well enough. I have no proof. It's only a girl's idea, and one I'm afraid you would have taken but little stock in."
"You're mistaken," Gregory replied. "I would have. And perhaps by now we could have had the proof."
"No. We've done just right. If we had pretended we suspected anything they would have gone to cover. There's only one way to get to the bottom of this thing and that is to beat Mascola at his own game. Make him think that fish are the only thing in the world we care for around Diablo. And while we're fishing over here, keep our eyes open and learn what we can."
Before Gregory could reply the silence of the night was broken by the sharp exhaust of a high-speed motor. Looking in the direction of the sound, he saw a flash of red pierce the darkness and heard the girl's voice close to his ear.
"I guess we're due to find out something now. Here comes Mascola."
Together they watched the red light brighten. Then came a flash of green as the oncoming launch swerved and sped toward them. In a few moments
Mascola had located the flag-ship and the Fuor d'Italia lay snorting angrily by the Richard's side.
"I want to see the boss," demanded the Italian.
Gregory leaned over the rail and focused his flash-light on Mascola.
"What do you want?" he called.