As they walked to the wharf Gregory encountered McCoy and explained the situation.
"So I'm going out there," he concluded. "While I'm away it's up to you."
McCoy, he noticed, did not enthuse over the idea.
"Diablo's a dangerous place to be fooling around at this time of the year," he said.
"If she can take the risk, I surely can," Gregory answered promptly.
"You're needed here," objected McCoy. "Everything's new and there's liable to be something come up I don't know about."
"Then do the best you can. I'll back you up. You know a lot more about it anyway than I do."
McCoy lapsed into silence while Gregory hurried away to make ready for the trip. When they were ready to shove off, McCoy watched the two boats slide out into the fog with conflicting emotions. Dick knew how to take care of herself all right. She could handle a boat in bad weather with the best of them. But, was that good enough? He reflected suddenly that Bill Lang had been the best of them. And it was on just such a day as this that Bill Lang had met his death on Diablo with Gregory's father.
Leaning against the dripping rail, he cursed the circumstances which prevented his being at the girl's side if anything went wrong. He liked the boss or he would have told him to look for another man. And Gregory's banking on him, tied him up. His inability to join the expedition gave to another the chance which should have been his. Torn by anxiety for the girl's welfare and another emotion he was slower in analyzing, he listened to the faint gulping of the Pelican's exhaust until it was no longer audible.