"Not a chance. Well, my clumsy friend, shall we put your shoe back on and go meet the others for lunch?"
"We shall," Rick returned. "Indeed we shall." He slipped his shoe on and tied it quickly. "Wasn't it interesting, where Steve said we could reach him?"
Steve had said at the UDT base. That meant simply at the home of the Navy frogmen—the Underwater Demolition Teams. No wonder Steve had said he would be an expert on skin diving by nightfall. He was going to be with the most expert experts of all.
Rick sighed. "Just our luck he doesn't want us in the case. Wouldn't it be great to work with the Navy frogmen? We could learn plenty."
"Forgetting St. Francis?" Scotty inquired. "There he lies, twenty fathoms down, probably covered with barnacles and waiting to be rescued. And you want to go fogging off with the frogmen."
"All right, all right! Don't rub it in. We'll go back to being interested in the bark Maiden Hand. And St. Francis. And pirates. Let's cast off, my hearty."
The Danish Pastry was only a few blocks away, and Dr. Ernst and the Spindrifters were already seated. The boys joined them, with apologies for being late, but without mentioning their meeting with Steve Ames. There was nothing to be gained by bringing the matter up in front of Dr. Ernst. They could tell Zircon and Tony later. Zircon knew Steve, but Tony didn't.
Over dessert, Dr. Ernst reached into his bag and brought forth a chart. "I thought you might need this," he said.
It was a detailed chart of Clipper Cay and the surrounding waters. It showed clearly the position of the reefs, and it gave soundings that showed the depths.
Zircon shook his massive head. "Paul, your thoroughness has never failed to amaze me. What would we have done without you?"