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"Well, good for old Skouras," I said. "He seems to have adopted the place. Lucky Torbay. I wish he'd buy me a new radio-transmitter." "I'll keep my eyes and ears open, Mr, Petersen. I can't do more. If anything turns up I'll let you know at once." I told him thanks, and left. I hadn't particularly wanted to go there, but it would have looked damned odd if I hadn't turned up to add my pennyworth to the chorus of bitter complaint. I was very glad that I had turned up.
The midday reception from London was poor. This was due less 10 the fact that reception is always better after dark than to the fact that I couldn't use our telescopic radio mast: but it was fair enough and Uncle's voice was brisk and business-like and clear. "Well, Caroline, we've found our missing friends," he said, "How many?" I asked cautiously, "Uncle Arthur's am-biguous references weren't always as clear as Uncle Arthur imagined them to be. "All twenty-five." That made it the former crew of theNantesville, "Two of them are pretty badly hurt but they'll be all right." That accounted for the blood I had found in the captain's and one of the engineers' cabins, "Where?" I asked. He gave me a map reference. Just north of Wexford. TheNantesville had sailed from Bristol, she couldn't have been more than a few hours on her way before she'd run into trouble. "Exactly the same procedure as on the previous occasions," Uncle Arthur was saying. "Held in a lonely farmhouse fora couple of nights. Plenty to eat and drink and blankets to keep the cold out. Then they woke up one morning and found their guards had gone." "But a different procedure in stopping the -our friend?" I'd almost saidNantesville and Uncle Arthur wouldn't have liked that at all. "As always. We must concede them a certain ingenuity, Caroline. After having smuggled men aboard in port, then using the sinking fishing-boat routine, the police launch routine and the yacht with the appendicitis case aboard, I thought they would be starting to repeat themselves. Butthis time they came up with a new one - possibly because it's the first time they've hi-jacked a ship during the hours of darkness. Carley rafts, this time, with about ten sur-vivors aboard, dead ahead of the vessel. Oil all over the sea. A weak distress flare that couldn't have been seen a mile away and probably was designed that way. You know the rest." "Yes, Annabelle." I knew the rest. After that the routine was always the same. The rescued survivors, displaying a marked lack of gratitude, would whip out pistols, round up the crew, tie black muslin bags