"Of course, with a population this small-" Bob was starting, when Jenny made one of her few interruptions of the evening.
"Swallow that with your degree, Bob. You know as well as I do that these aren't accidents. They're just the sort of thing young Andre has been doing for years, to his family and to me and sometimes to other people. It's just that they're worse now; and you've been added to the list. I admit I don't really know he's the one, but I feel pretty sure, and tomorrow I'm going to know."
"You're not going anywhere tomorrow," her father said firmly.
"All right, then he'll come here. You tell his father he's due for a shot, or something. I've put up with a lot from that kid even if this isn't part of it, and I'm going to find out why."
"You've changed your mind about Shorty?" Bob asked.
"Not entirely, but he wouldn't do things like that to you, I don't think. You get Andre here, Dad, and then leave him with me. We've been through this before, and I thought we'd settled it a year ago. I suppose Bob and Mae will be out beyond the reef tomorrow, and you certainly won't let me go, but I'm going to get something done."
"Even if it has no connection with the main job," Bob remarked.
"Even then, if it really hasn't. What else could have gotten him interested in you?"
"I still don't see why you're so sure he's the one," Maeta said.
"I expect an art student would call it recognition of style," the redhead answered. "Never mind. You just get that ship checked out, and let me know the answer as soon as you can."
"How sure of that are you?" asked Bob.
"Not sure enough. Well report to each other. Dad, I'm sleepy and this foot hurts. Anything you can do?"
Bob and Maeta took the hint. At the road outside they paused for a moment, their homes lying in opposite directions.
"D'you think Jenny could be right about the desChenes kid?" Bob asked "How well do you know him?"
"Pretty well. After all, you're almost the only one on the island these days who doesn't know practically everybody. He certainly is a pest; Jenny and Shorty are both right about that. He does seem to get fun out of being a nuisance, and even out of hurting people. I've never had much trouble from him myself, unless it was he who hid my paddles a couple of times. He damaged some library books about three years ago, soon after I started working there, and I took away his card for a couple of months. The first paddle incident came right after that. I found them easily enough both times, and never bothered to find out who did it."
"I would have!"
"And thereby made the day for the one who'd done it," Maeta retorted. The Hunter agreed with her, but kept the thought to himself.
"Where does he live?" asked Bob. "I know what he looks like-a little bit plump for his height."
"East of the dock road, close to the beach. Yes, he's a little on the heavy side. He's not very active; I see him in the library a lot of the time. He doesn't seem to get around with his own age group much."
"Doesn't he like them, or don't they like him?"
"I've never thought about that. I'd guess it's his own choosing. As I said, he's reading a lot of the time-at least, he usually has several books at once out of the library, and pretty often is curled up somewhere inside the place with a book. Jenny may be right, but I'm not at all sure. Her father, remember, is blaming someone else for what happened to you and her; he thinks you didn't manage to kill that other creature the Hunter was after. I sort of agree with him. Would your masculine pride be offended if I walked home with you now?"
Bob felt uncomfortable at the suggestion, and might have dismissed it too tersely for real politeness, but the Hunter expressed himself sharply.
"Bob, even if you don't want to believe she could protect you from anything, she would at least be a witness. Her presence could prevent something from happening, or give us a better chance of finding how it happened. Never mind what she calls your masculine pride; use your human brains."
"All right, Mae." Bob spoke aloud. "The Hunter is on your side. I was just going to suggest I take you home, since the accidents seem to be spreading, but I suppose there's no evidence they're interested in you. All right, let's go."
The walk was uneventful. There was very little talk; all three were listening carefully for evidence of others on or near the road. The moon, though high in the northeast, was of little help; this was the jungle branch of the island, and the trees shadowed the road itself as well as the underbrush on each side. Once past the school there were no streetlights.
Bob pointed out to Maeta the scene of the bicycle trap, though there was nothing useful to see in the shadows and even her flashlight revealed little. He and the Hunter had checked the scene over very carefully, in full daylight, the day after the incident, but even the experienced detective had found nothing informative or even suggestive. It bothered his pride. Maeta left them at the Kinnaird's door, refusing the suggestion that she come in. Her last remark was the recommendation that Bob's father come with them the next day if he were free. As usual, Bob had to hold this item until his sister was upstairs for the night. It then led to some discussion, and was modified firmly by the lady of the house.
"Arthur has been having all the fun," she pointed out. "I love our daughter, but I think it's my turn to get a day on the water with you young folks, and let your father entertain Daphne tomorrow. All right, Dear?"
The Hunter suspected that it was not entirely all right. As far as he knew, Arthur Kinnaird had not had any "fun" on the project either. However, no one was greatly surprised when the man made no objection to his wife's idea.
He took the child off after breakfast, and the rest of the group headed northwest along the road as soon as father and daughter were out of sight. Bob's bicycle had not yet been repaired, but he used his father's and they reached North Beach in a few minutes. Maeta was waiting for them, and after a quick but careful inspection of the canoe itself and the search equipment, they shoved off.
The women paddled, while Bob undid the wires fastening the pipe to the rest of the gear. The plug and telegraph had been repaired, but he tested the latter again. Then he tied the new rope, which had been supporting the concrete box, very securely around the pipe, and placed one hand in the open end of the latter.
The Hunter left through the skin of the hand, the process as usual taking several minutes, and signaled with the buzzer when it was complete. Bob told the others. The alien could hear their voices, but did not yet bother to make an eye.
"We're ready here," Bob said. "Are we close to your marker, Mae?"
"Pretty near. We have, to hide Tank Four behind Seven, and line the north corner of Eleven against the middle of Nine. It will be a few minutes yet."
She had provided these bearings, the night before, and the Hunter had mapped them. He knew without looking, therefore, that they were about a mile north and a little west of North Beach, a little less than that straight west of Apu, and about half a mile from the nearest breakers.