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Out of the darkness, halfway down the deck, someone took a shot at us. The slug crashed

through the wooden partition behind me and ruined a mirror in one of the cabins with a crash

of breaking glass.

I shoved Paula behind me, conscious that my white clothes made me look like a phantom

out for a night’s haunting.

More gunfire. I felt a slug zip past my face. The gun-flash came from around a lifeboat. I

thought I could see a shadowy figure crouching against the rails. I fired twice. The second

shot nailed him. He came staggering out from behind the boat and flattened out on the hot

deck.

“Keep going,” I said.

We ran on. The deck was so hot now it burned through our shoes. Somehow we reached the

ladder leading to the upper deck. Above the roar of the flames we could hear yells and

screams and the crash of breaking glass.

We scrambled on to the upper deck. The deck-rail was packed with men and women in

evening-dress, yelling their heads off. Smoke made a black pall over the ship, and it was

almost as hot up there as on the lower deck.

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I could see three or four of the ship’s officers trying to get the panic under control. They

might just as well have tried to slam a revolving door.

“Jack must be somewhere around by now,” I shouted to Paula. “Keep near me, and let’s get

to the rail.”

We fought our way through the struggling mob. A man grabbed Paula and swung her away

from me. I don’t know what he thought he was doing. His face was twitching and his eyes

wild. He clawed at me frantically, and I punched him in the jaw, sending him reeling, and

then pushed and shoved my way to Paula again.

A girl with the top half of her dress torn off, fell on my neck and screamed in my face. Her

breath, loaded with whisky fumes, nearly blistered my skin. I tried to shove her off, but her

arms threatened to strangle me. Paula pulled her away, and boxed her ears hard. The girl went

staggering into the crowd, screaming like a train whistle.

We reached the deck-rail. Spread out all over the sea and coming in all directions was an

armada of small boats. The sea was alive with them.

“Hey! Vic!!”

Kerman’s voice rose above the uproar, and we saw him standing on the deck-rail, not far

from us, clinging to the awning and kicking the crazy crowd away from him whenever they

threatened to tear him from his hold.

“Come on, Vic!”

I pushed Paula ahead of me. We reached him after a struggle, and after Paula nearly had her

dress ripped off her back.

Kerman was grinning excitedly.

“Did you have to set fire to the ship?” he bawled. “Talk about panic! What’s got into these

punks? They’ll be off weeks before the tub goes down.”

“Where’s your boat?” I panted, and shoved an elderly roué out of my way as he struggled

to climb over the rail. “Take it easy, pop,” I told him. “It’s too wet to swim. All the boats in

the world are coming.”

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“Right here,” Kerman said, pointing below him. He swung Paula up on to the rail while I

struggled to keep the customers from following her. He guided her feet on to a rope ladder

hanging down the ship’s side, and she descended like a veteran sailor.

“Not you, madam,” Kerman yelled, as a girl fought her way towards him. “This is a private

party. Try a little farther along.”

The girl, hysterical and screaming, threw herself against him and wrapped her arms around

his legs.

“For Pete’s sake!” he yelled. “You’ll have my pants off! Hi, Vic, give me a hand! This

dame’s crazy.”

I swung myself over the rail and on to the ladder.

“I thought you liked them that way. Bring her along if she’s all that attached to you.”

I don’t know how he got rid of her, but as I dropped into the boat he came sliding down the

ladder and nearly knocked me overboard as he landed.

“Take it easy,” I said, and grabbed him to steady him.

Mike had started the outboard engine and the boat began to draw away from the ship. We

had to pick our way. The number of boats coming out to the Dream Ship was something to

see. It looked like Dunkirk all over again.

“Nice work!” I said, clapping Mike on his broad back. “You guys timed it about right.” I

looked back at the Dream Ship. The lower deck was on fire now, and smoke was pouring

from her sides. “I wonder how much she was insured for?”

“Did you touch her off?” Kerman asked.

“No, you dope! Sherrill’s dead. Someone shot him and set fire to the ship. If we hadn’t

spotted him when we did he would never have been found.”

“A pretty expensive funeral,” Kerman said, looking blank.

“Not if the ship’s insured. You talk to Paula. I want to look at this,” and I pulled Anona

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Freedlander’s dossier out of my hip pocket.

Kerman gave me a flashlight.

“What is it?” he asked.

I stared at the first page of the dossier, scarcely believing my eyes.

Paula said, “Vic; hadn’t we better decide what we’re going to do?”

“Do? Jack and I are going right after Anona. I want you to tell Mifflin about Sherrill. Get

him to come out to Maureen Crosby’s cliff house fast. It’s going to finish tonight.”

She stared at him.