“The shipments are carried to Cary’s office. That’s in the normal routine. It is a very simple matter for him to take out the extra things he has ordered. Punaro, in collecting rubbish, places the supplies intended for German subs under the trash in his dump cart, and later hides it aboard the rubbish barge.”
“And Beeson?” asked Kitty. “You really think he’s the middleman?”
“No doubt of that,” replied Captain Rogers. “He probably carts off quite a bit of fresh food with him when he comes for scraps for his hogs.”
“That’s just what we figured,” said Kitty. “And I suppose Hazel Dawson was right about Lieutenant Cary playing chess with Krome to keep him occupied while Punaro gets away with the dirty work in the galley?”
“No doubt that’s been his program.”
While they had been talking, the fury of the wind had increased. Mr. Carter kept glancing uneasily toward the rattling windows.
“Captain, if you’ll excuse me I think I’d better go back to our bungalow and bring my little boy and his nurse here. This wind is reaching an alarming force.”
“Yes, yes, of course! They say it’s likely to reach hurricane proportions by morning.”
Mr. Carter got up quickly. “I’m afraid it’s going to be ahead of schedule. Our small cottage is no place to spend the night.”
Kitty threw aside the old sweater and jumped to her feet, frightened for Billy.