Trading, smuggling and fishing at the U.S.-Mexican border in the early part of the 20th century.
You knew nothing of his plans?"
"Nothing definite," Blair evaded. "He might have gone out with the fishermen scouting for albacore. One of Lang's boats turned up missing the next morning. Lang himself is missing, too."
"Who is Lang?"
"Your father's fishing captain. He recently bought him a number of new boats. They might have gone to try one of them out."
"Nothing has been heard of them since?"
"Not yet. You see it has been very foggy lately all along the coast. That has handicapped our search."
"Where can I get a boat?"
Blair shook his head. Then he came closer and put his hand on Kenneth Gregory's arm.
"All of the Lang boats are out now, Captain. Everything is being done, I can assure you. It would be no use."
"Are there no other boats here than Lang's?"
"Only the alien fleet."
The man in uniform whirled about decisively.
"Then I'll get one of them. Will you show me where they are?"
"It would be no use. They wouldn't