He rose as he spoke and began to move slowly about the room.
"Tell the Mexican to keep a good lookout outside," he instructed Hawkins. "Then you and your friend can help me go through the shack."
Gregory assisted mechanically in the search but with little interest. The sooner they were through the sooner they would go down to the cove where the Gray Ghost lay at anchor. Then he would find Mascola. A muttered exclamation from Hawkins caused him to look up quickly.
The newspaperman was handing Billings a cigar-shaped capsule half filled with a coarse white powder.
"What's this, Jack?" he asked. "Looks like sugar. Found it in the grub-locker."
Billings poured the contents of the capsule into the palm of his hand. For a moment he scrutinized it intently. "That's the stuff we're looking for," he said quietly. "Though I never saw it in a package like that before."
Slade held up a hand for silence and pulled his head-set closer about his ears. For a moment his attention was held by the instrument. Then his hand again sought the key. When the sputtering of the radio had died away he announced:
"Got the Bennington. She's about a mile off the goose-neck. They're going to land in the next cove. The Gray Ghost's at anchor now off the isthmus cove. Mascola's speed-boat passed them in the fog about an hour ago. He's lying in somewhere farther down."
He rose as he spoke and began to wreck the radio set.