"Woods, Stuart - White Cargo" - читать интересную книгу автора (Woods Stuart)

red ball of a sun.

"What's up, Denny?" Cat called out.

"We got a problem?"

Denny turned and looked at him, silhouetted against the rising sun; Cat
could not see his face.

"No, no problem," Denny called back, then turned and looked astern
again.

Cat climbed into the cockpit, raising a hand to shade his eyes.

"Why are we stopped? What's going on?"

Denny did not reply but continued to stare astern.

Now Cat heard an engine. He started aft toward Denny, staggering a bit
with sleep and the gentle rolling of the yacht. He made the stern and
climbed up beside Denny, holding on to the backstay for support as the
hove-to boat rolled with the swell.

"What is it?" he asked again.

"I don't know," Denny said, dully.

The young man seemed to be breathing rapidly. Cat thought. He looked out
astern, the sun hurting his eyes, and, for the first time, saw a white
shape that had to be a boat a few hundred yards out, coming toward them.

The sound of an engine was distinct now, borne on the light breeze. Cat
looked around the cockpit for the binoculars, then remembered that they
had been stolen in Santa Marta.

He squinted at the boat, trying to judge its shape and size.

It seemed to be a sportfisherman, he thought, something on the order of
thirty feet. It came on, steadily, toward Catbird.

"Why did you stop the boat, Denny?" Cat asked again.

The younger man stepped down from the stern and stood in the cockpit,
still watching the approaching boat, now only a hundred yards away.

"Nothing's wrong, Mr. Catledge," Denny said.

"Everything's okay."

Cat was wide awake now, and becoming irritated at the lack of an answer