"Why not? Listen, she's powered with gasoline engines, that's why not. Two Chryster Crowns, huge things. They make her just stand up on her rudders and rocket. Costs a fortune to run."

"I think my company would be interested," said Heller.

"One is born every minute," said the dockmaster. "Hey, Barney! Is this Sea Skiff for sale?"

A rugged-looking sea dog came over. "That Sea Skiff? Hell, yes, it's for sale. The Faustino mob has been trying to offload it since last year. The Corleones sort of drove them off the sea, you know. They used to use it to race out beyond the continental shelf and pick up dope cargos off freighters in it. Has radar, autopilot and even radio controls."

A cop was looking under tarpaulins and into the cockpits of the beached craft.

"How much?" said Heller.

"Oh, Jesus. I don't know," said Barney. "They carry it on their books for twenty thousand, they said. But I think five would take it."

"Could you get it in the water and get it gassed up and running?"

"You buying it?" said Barney, incredulous.

Heller was peeling off thousand-dollar bills.

"Jesus," said Barney. He turned and yelled at a workman, "Hey, Fitz! Run the travelift over here and get this Sea Skiff in the water before this guy changes his mind!"

Heller handed five thousand-dollar bills to Barney with another thousand for service, gas and water.

In a casual way, Heller walked over to the phone kiosk. He dialled a number. A girl answered. Heller said, "Tell Izzy she's in Atlantic City aboard the yacht Golden Sunset. I'm handling." He hung up. He was about to leave the kiosk when he stopped, door partly open. He put his hand back on the phone.

A cop was walking up to the red cab. He glared at Mortie in the front seat. "We're looking for Wister," snarled the cop, "and you're a lead! You tell me who

your fare up here was or I'll have your hack license with one short call to city hall! You told us nobody. It must have been somebody!"

"All right, all right," said Mortie. "That kid over there is driving for me today. He brought us up here hoping for a fare. Known him for years. Taught him how to hack, in fact."

"What's his name?" snarled the cop, glancing toward the kiosk.

"Clyde Barrow."

The cop took quick steps to a cop car and made a call. He came back. "He used to be on the most-wanted list but you're lucky there's no outstanding warrants. Now you listen to me carefully: we're after Wister. You keep your eyes open. You see anything of him, you report it!"

"You mean the Whiz Kid?" said Mortie. "Jesus, what's he done now?"

"Bigamy, that's what!" said the cop. "Stealin' cities, robbin' trains. But now he's really done it. Married TWO women!"

"Jesus," said Mortie. "That IS asking for trouble. That Whiz Kid don't care WHAT he takes on!"

"Shows he's crazy," said the cop. "We also got a commitment order. So you keep your eyes open!"

Grafferty came up. "You and Sloan," he said to the cop, "stay here in case he shows up. We coulda been ahead of him." He walked off and got in his car.

I was the one who thought he was crazy. What were all these cops doing practically WALKING on Heller?

I phoned Grafferty's office. "You God (bleeped) fools!" I said. "He's right there in the phone kiosk!"

The office man hung up on me.

In an agony of suspense, I stuck to the viewer.

Heller was watching the launch of the Sea Skiff. The travelift was a big contraption on wheels that lifted the large craft up into its belly and then rolled over to the dock edge and lowered the vessel into the water.

Workmen swarmed down into the oceangoing speedboat. They opened its engine covers and did things. They lowered in some new batteries. They got the engines going and checked to see if the cooling water was pumping. Then they ran it over to the Octopus Marine fuel float and gave it gas and oil and water.

Heller walked over to Mortie. "How much do you owe in bills?"

"Two G's. I'll never be able to pay off."

"Here's two G's," said Heller, "and another big one for your help today."

"Jesus! You been robbing banks?"

"They think so," said Heller. "Now, take some time off and get your eyes well. So long."

"Wait a minute. I can see well enough to know they put a man-killing boat in the water for you. You're not going out in that, are you?"

"I think so," said Heller.

"Jesus," said Mortie. "You wait right here!" He drove away at a mad rate.

Barney came over. "I checked the safety gear. If the Coast Guard stops you, you got the right foghorns and all that."

Heller said, "You got some charts?"

"Oh, there's a lot of old charts in the forward bunk space, up and down the coast. How far you goin'?"

"Just cruisin' around," said Heller.

"Well, if you're goin' further than a hundred miles,

I better yell over to the float and tell 'em to put extra gas aboard."

"You do that," said Heller.

A cop walked over, eyeing Heller, the same cop who had talked to Mortie. "Come over here," he said, gesturing.

Heller walked over to him.

"Did you know there was a reward out for the Whiz Kid?" said the cop. "Ten big ones."

"That's not very much," said Heller.

"Well, I agree," said the cop, "considering that he's a notorious outlaw, but it is money. Now look, these (bleepards) around here are playing it dumb. Level with me. You was here when we arrived. Did you see anybody arrive or leave?"

"Not a soul," said Heller.

The cop shook his head in bafflement and looked up and down the dock.

Mortie screeched his cab to a halt in front of the dockmaster office. Heller went over.

"Here," said Mortie. "From me to you. Ten pastrami sandwiches and a special submarine with lots of garlic. And a six-pack of nonalcoholic beer. But that ain't what I went for. Man, will you need this!" He shoved a package into Heller's hands. "Dramamine. Seasick pills, kid. You're a hacker and you don't know what you're getting into. Let me tell you, that sea is dangerous! Waves as tall as the Empire State Building!"

"Gee, thanks," said Heller.

"So long, kid. But get back to something healthy like hacking." Mortie sped away, caroming offa cop car.

Barney was there again. "Who do we make the bill of sale to? The Coast Guard will want to see it."

"Close Shaves, Incorporated," said Heller.

I was going absolutely crazy! These dumb cops had him right in their hands! The whole situation was insane!

Heller was shoving papers in his pocket and climbing down into the oceangoing speedboat, which bobbed as he boarded it. He studied out the controls. A dock-hand cast him off.

Heller was standing behind the windshield, sun blazing down upon the chrome controls. One hand was on the wheel. With the other he waved at Barney and the dockmaster and they waved back.

Heller fed some throttle and the Sea Skiff leaped like it was spurred.

Throwing two gigantic plumes of spray, it sped out into the Hudson and banked as it curved away to the south!

The mighty roar of pounding engines lifted the vessel high in the water. It was picking up speed, planing.

HE WAS GETTING AWAY!

The Coast Guard!

They had mentioned it twice.

Ah, yes! I had the exact way to stop him now. But I needed just a little more data.

Viewed from the speeding craft, seen through a white fan of spray, the skyscrapers were going by like a picket fence.

There was no wind this bright spring day aside

from an occasional cat's paw. The clouds were actually reflected in the blue Hudson!

Heller was fiddling with a control attached by cord to a gyrocompass. He was evidently figuring out what it was and how it worked. It did not take him long.

He put his eye on a centerline behind the windshield, sighted past the chock on the foredeck and spotted the Statue of Liberty several miles ahead. He pressed a switch on the autopilot control and, utterly ignoring the crowds of traffic on the river, opened the companionway door that led down under the foredeck.