This is the time, dear Mother—” hummed a seaman.

“Shut up,” said his partner.

They waited silently, watching the pier for any light. Suddenly, a man came upon them, startling them as he shuffled in and laid down a large package.

“Here it is, Rio.” The man was panting. “It’s me—Al.”

“Beer!” The men exulted quietly, peering through the early darkness.

Al now took a short automatic from his pocket and handed it to Rio.

“Drink up,” Rio said to the men.

Each man took a bottle and waited in turn for the opener except one seaman who, impatient, knocked off the cap of his bottle against a block of wood.

“Take the rest down to the men at the pier,” said Rio to Al, who shambled away noiselessly.