Pat and Tim strolled along the wharfs. It was a picturesque city and they enjoyed the walk at the sunset hour.
A small boat was coming in from the sea. They watched it curiously for the men at the oars were particularly vicious looking.
“I wouldn’t want to meet them on a dark night,” said Pat.
When they returned to the S-18, Commander Ford divulged his plans for eluding the Iron Mate and its crew of cutthroats.
“Tim,” he said, “we’ll hoist your seaplane overboard at once. Then we’ll slip out of the harbor and run submerged until we are well away from the coast. You fool around here all day tomorrow. The next morning hop early and rejoin us at this joint.” The commander indicated a spot in the Caribbean approximately two hundred miles west of Key West.
“Sladek will probably set his pilot to watching you when he finds we’ve given him the slip, but I’ll expect you to elude him and join us at the rendezvous without being followed. A great deal will depend upon your success.”
“It may take some time to shake him off my trail,” promised Tim, “but I’ll see that he doesn’t follow me too far.”
“That’s good,” said Ford. “Now we’ll drop your seaplane overboard and prepare to slip out of the harbor. I’ve special clearances which will allow our departure at any hour we care to leave.”
Tim directed the unloading of the Sea King and made sure that trim little craft was fast to the dock before he returned to the deck of the S-18.
Pat was checking over the crew list. Everyone answered present except Al Hardy, the cook.