CHAPTER XXII
STRICTLY ON THE DEFENSIVE
The _Richard_ was in motion before the echoes of the _Fuor d'Italia's_gatlin-like exhaust had died away. Directing Bronson to take themalongside each of the vessels which composed the fleet, Gregory andDickie Lang boarded the fishing vessels and conferred with therespective captains. Gregory's instructions were phrased with militarydirectness.
Every launch was assigned a definite position which it was to assume atonce and hold at all cost. The fleet was divided into three divisions.The main unit, comprising the vessels equipped with the live-bait tanks,were to begin "chumming" at once within a given area. As soon aspracticable, fishing was to commence. The second division, made up forthe most part of the heavier, Diesel-motored vessels, was to lay to in Vformation about the fishermen to protect them from interference in thedirection from which the fish were running. The remainder of the fleetwere to stand by as a rearguard, cover the extreme flanks and maintain areserve.
Before taking leave of each craft as it left to go to its new position,Gregory briefly addressed the crew: "Get this, fellows. We're here tofish. Not to fight. If trouble comes, let Mascola start it. If he does,I expect you to hold your positions. Keep in the clear and use nofirearms. Remember, what you do to-night, binds me. Play safe. Keepcool. But get the fish."
To a man, the ex-sailors understood the seriousness of the situation,though there were some who argued against the poor fighting policy ofletting the other fellow hit the first blow. The radical element,however, were soon quieted by the older and more conservative men, andall agreed to stay in the clear so "nobody could hang anything on theboss."
Tom Howard had arrived with the _Pelican_ when Gregory and Dickie Langreturned to the _Curlew_. The fisherman brought the news that the men ofthe alien fleet were in a high state of intoxication. Moreover, theyappeared to be completely out of live bait.
Dickie smiled grimly. "That means that if Mascola does send them downhere, he'll just be looking for trouble. If they haven't the bait, allthey can do will be to try to steal our school like they did before, andI guess this time they'll find they're out of luck."
"Met Mascola on my way down," Howard announced. "He was runningwide-open, heading straight for Black Point."
Gregory frowned. "It's hard to tell what Mascola will do to-night," hesaid.
The _Pelican_ was despatched at once to take her position as the leaderof the front rank. As the _Curlew_ made ready to get under way, Hawkinsappeared at the rail.
"Don't forget the press," he called. "If I'm going to do this affairjustice I've got to be at the ringside."
Gregory moved nearer to Bronson and allowed the newspaperman toaccompany the party on the speed-craft. Then the _Richard_ sped away tosee that all the boats were in their proper places. Arriving in thecenter of the fishing area, Dickie Lang watched the men "chumming" thefish and suggested they throw out their lines at once.
"I don't like the looks of the weather," she confided to Gregory. "Itfeels like a blow. I'm going to have a look at the glass on the_Snipe_." Gregory noticed that the girl appeared worried when shereturned to the _Richard_. "Dropping fast," she announced. "It may bejust a squall or it may be a real blow. This is no place for us ineither case. We must rush the fishing all we can."
Gregory agreed and gave the necessary orders. From the sides of the_Snipe_ the lines flashed over the rail. On the instant the albacorebegan to strike. As the _Richard_ bounded away to notify the other boatsof the order to hurry operations, the girl observed:
"The fish are heading close in all right. They're running fromsomething. Now is the time to hit it hard. Oughtn't to take long the waythey're starting. I must see that the boys have all the barbs off thehooks. We have to work fast. And when the blow comes, we'll have to getclear of the Diablo coast."
The second tour of the fishing fleet was only partly completed whenDickie directed Gregory's gaze in the direction of the point offNorthwest Harbor.
"Here they come," she cried. "Mascola's looking for trouble just as Itold you."
Gregory surveyed the bobbing lights in silence as they moved nearer; sawthe red-lights blur and fade into green as the vessels changed directionand headed shoreward; noted one twinkling light running far in advanceof its fellows; saw it swerve and double again into red and green. Thatmeant that the _Fuor d'Italia_ was bearing down upon them. DirectingBronson to intercept the Italian, Gregory explained:
"I want to give Mascola another chance. We're not looking for trouble.He can lay to the seaward but he's got to give us sea-way to get out ifit roughens up."
The _Richard_ swung wide and came abreast the _Fuor d'Italia_. Then itcame to Mascola that the strange craft on his left had some speed. Abovethe roar of his own exhaust he heard his name called in a peremptoryhail. The hot blood surged to his face and he stepped on the throttle.He had no time to talk. He must spot the position of the cannery boatsand give his men instructions how to break through.
The _Fuor d'Italia_ bounded away with a sullen roar. But before Mascolacould circle in the direction of the lights of the fleet, the _Richard_was again on his rail. Cursing to himself, the Italian advanced hisspark and pressed hard on the throttle. But though he gained a few feeton his pursuer, he knew that he dared not try to make the turn. His boatwould "turn turtle" or be cut in two by the craft behind.
On the two boats sped through the darkness. The lights of the fishingfleet flashed by them like the gleam of switch-lights, seen from anexpress train. Mascola's anger mounted. His men were waiting for ordersand he had seen nothing of the enemy's formation. A plan formed quicklyin his brain. It was dangerous of course. But the liquor gave himcourage. Removing one hand from the wheel, he extended it toward theswitch-board.
"He doesn't dare make the turn at this speed," Dickie shouted inGregory's ear. "Tell Bronson to watch him close when he doubles to comeback. He'll head into the swell, to the starboard."
Gregory was giving the boatman the message when he felt Dickie grasp hisarm.
"He's switched off his lights," she cried. "He's going to try to dodgeus, running dark."
Bronson had already slackened speed at sight of the disappearing lightsahead. Then he put the _Richard_ hard over, and the speed-craft swervedwith a jerk which left her passengers crowding close against oneanother.
"Give her the gun," shouted Gregory. "Head back. Don't let him slip us."
As the boatman complied and the _Richard_ began to lift her hull fromthe sea, the dark waters ahead were brightened by a phosphorescentflash. Directly across their course lay the _Fuor d'Italia_. Twistingthe steering wheel with only the slightest pressure of his fingers toavoid turning the _Richard_ over, Bronson opened the cut-out and steppedhard on the throttle. The speed-craft dipped, then raised and bumped the_Fuor d'Italia_ beam to beam as she raced by.
The shock of the collision threw Mascola half from his seat and had adecidedly sobering effect upon his senses. He had noted his boat trembleat the impact and crowd away from the stranger; had felt the strainingof her timbers. Now he noticed that his motor was missing badly. A loosewire probably. He made haste to repair the trouble and switched on hisrunning lights. The _Fuor d'Italia_ was too light to take chances ofroughing it in the dark. As he worked, he heard a voice hail him.
"What do you want?" he demanded angrily. "Damn you, you hit my boat."
The lights of the returning motor-boat drew alongside before Gregoryanswered:
"Listen, Mascola. If you're looking for trouble, this is the place tofind it. If you're not, you can move out to sea and get as many fish aswe are. We'll not bother you. There's plenty of albacore over hereto-night for everybody. If you try to break through us, it will be up toyou."
Mascola's anger came in a torrent of Italian words. Then he composedhimself sufficiently to speak in broken English: "This Mr. Bandrist'sisland. He tell me I fish here. He say you go. You stay, you liketrouble. My men like fight any time."
"Go to it, then," Gregory answered quietly. "And whe
n you see yourfriend Bandrist, tell him for me that he hasn't bought Diablo. He's onlyleasing the land. If he has any more claim to the water than we have,he'll have to show us."
Mascola completed his repairs, started his motor and raced away in thedirection of his fleet with the _Richard_ running close at his side. Butwhen he came abreast of the cannery fishing-boats, he made no effort tohead in.
"He don't want to rough it any more with this one," Bronson commented."I reckon when he looks over his boat it'll mean a job for the shopputting in a few ribs."
Mascola returned to his fleet, his cheeks burning with rage. In thefirst preliminary skirmish with the enemy, he realized he had beenbeaten. He had found out nothing of value. Had damaged his boat too, nodoubt. Well, he'd make somebody pay for it before morning. Circling hisboats, he gave orders for an immediate advance in the direction of thecannery fleet.
Kenneth Gregory looked after the departing lights of the _Fuord'Italia_.
"Score one for the invaders of Bandrist's island," he said grimly."Mascola didn't learn much on his reconnoitering expedition, except thatwe had a better boat than his." Then he turned to Bronson. "Take us upto the other end," he instructed. "I want to tell the boys to keep asclose in as they can so Mascola's boats will have to skirt the reef toget by."
When they arrived at the indicated spot and the V broadened according toorders, the lights of the alien fleet could be discerned moving towardthem.
"Here they come," announced Dickie Lang. "Looks as if they were going totry to crowd in from the north side."
Gregory smiled. "That's just what I want them to do," he answered. "Oneof the benefits of reconnoitering is to get an idea of just what you'regoing into. If Mascola had taken a good look, he wouldn't have come thatway."