Not a thing, Sandy. Whats in your mind?Just the same the unexpected happened!Distance to cover, seventy miles, Larry pondered. Our best speed, Jeff said, once, was about seventy miles an hour. The phib does sixty, top.No glass was needed to show him the yacht, swiftly being brought almost under them by its speed and theirs. A quarter of a mile away was the hydroplane, coming fast. A mile to the south flew the approaching amphibian. And in every mindeven Jeffs, had they been able to read itwas the puzzled question, Why?Again the engine roared as they swung around, laying a course to take them above the rolling mist, toward the end of the island around whichor beyond whichthe yacht should be cruising or waiting.