“That’s a fair question,” Jones said. “You are smart boys, aren’t you? Well, I pride myself on using my brains, too. I use this innocent-looking sloop for several reasons, one of which caused this whole ridiculous mix-up. For one thing, an individual member of a popular class of sailboat is very hard for the casual observer to identify. This we have both seen to be true. For another thing, everyone thinks of a sailboat as being merely a pleasure craft, and would never suspect it of anything illegal. It can go in and out of the harbor on a regular schedule and nobody will notice it or even realize it’s the same boat they are seeing. Third, all power boats have to be registered and licensed by the Coast Guard, while a sailboat is so anonymous that it doesn’t even have to have a name. Fourth, it gives me a reason to live on this island. To the people who stop to think of me, if they think of me at all, I am a retired gentleman whose principal hobby is sailing, and who lives on an island in order to get the most enjoyment out of the sport.”
Again Jones smiled, and Sandy shivered. “It’s quite a neat setup, don’t you agree?” Jones said. “And, with the same neatness that is a part of my way of life, I am now going to put an end to this whole unpleasant interruption.”
Suddenly dropping his lazy conversational manner, Jones sat upright and pointed his rifle at Sandy. Not moving his eyes from the boys, he spoke to the sailor who was still standing silent by his side. “We’ll have to take them out to the freighter now. There’s nothing else to do. I’ll decide what to do with them later on. You and Turk sail this boat and I’ll follow in theirs. Lock them below,” he added, nodding toward Sandy and Jerry.
For the first time since they had seen him, the sailor spoke. “Okay,” he said. “We won’t mess it up this time.” Then, this being apparently the longest speech of which he was capable, he shut his mouth into a thin, hard line, and moved heavily to the boys.
Using his pistol as a goad, he poked Sandy in the ribs and motioned him to go below. As Sandy started to take his first step down into the cabin, the sailor shoved him roughly and sent him sprawling onto the deck below. His head spinning, Sandy looked up to see the giant sailor towering above him. He was conscious of an odd noise, like a strangled, slow sobbing, far away. What was it? He had never heard such an ugly sound in his life....
Then, as his head cleared, he realized what it was that he was hearing. The sailor was laughing!
Afterward, Sandy was unable to explain why the strange laughing sound, and the sight of the warped expression that only faintly resembled a smile, should have made him behave as he did. An uncontrollable fury filled him and he jumped to his feet with a headlong rush!
Caught off guard by Sandy’s sudden attack, the sailor made a clumsy move to sidestep, but not before Sandy’s swing had caught him a terrific blow in the ribs. All of Sandy’s six feet of wiry muscle went into the blow, and the sailor reeled back, staggering.
Sandy followed him into the cockpit to take advantage of the surprise attack, just in time to see Jones bring down the barrel of his rifle sharply on Jerry’s head. Sandy whirled to face Jones as Jerry dropped to the deck.
He started forward, cocking his fist to lash out before Jones could raise his rifle again, but suddenly, with a sound like a bat striking a ball, a blinding light seemed to explode in his face. This first sensation was followed by a dull roaring sound and a spreading pool of inky blackness. He felt his knees buckle....