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than the last.

      On the fourth day out of Hong Kong, just before dusk, they sighted land on the horizon. It was the coast of Indochina, and the captain told them that from now on they would be able to see land every day until the ship reached Saigon.

      "If that's Indochina," ventured Hazzard, as he and the captain leaned on the ship's rail together and looked across the blue sea, "it must be Vietnam."

      "Yes," replied the captain. "It's the old area called Tonkin. It's called Vietnam now. North Vietnam."

      Hazzard gazed at the distant gray line of land and wondered about the people living there now under the rule of their communist masters. He was glad that it was not his destination. But the future is not ours to see.

      After supper, they sat in the lounge playing poker. Hazzard was sitting with his back to the door that led out on deck, and did not see or hear the newcomer enter.

      The captain was the first one to notice, and they all looked up as he said, "Oh, good evening Mr. Chang. Feeling better?"

      "Yes," replied Chang. "Much better, thank you."

      Hazzard tried not to show the searching interest on his face. Somewhere in the back of his mind he had the uneasy feeling that he had known this tall, lean Chinese before. Chang's face had the high cheek-boned look of northern China, but his eyes had a strange piercing look, that seemed to bore through your skull and calmly read your mind. It was the look of a man who could be either a deadly merciless enemy, or one who could be trusted beyond question with your life in time of danger. It was a face one would find difficult to forget, and Hazzard decided that he had never met the man before. Yet there was something familiar, and as the captain continued to speak, Hazzard filed the thoughts away for further reference.

      "This is Mr. Chang," the captain explained. "He came aboard at Hong Kong. He hasn't been feeling too well and has been staying in his cabin." He looked at Chang and pointed to the cards on the table. "Care to join in? There's room for a fifth."

      "I would be very happy to play," said Chang. He swung his gaze around the table and stopped for a second to study Hazzard. "If it is all right with everyone else," he added.

      "Sure thing," said Hazzard. "Sit down. But I warn you, the captain is extremely lucky tonight. He's been winning all the big ones."

      The captain beamed at this. He considered his knowledge of poker to be second only to his knowledge of the sea. Chang sat down, and the captain introduced the others, one by one. Reisenbaum was last, and the delay was almost too much for the robust German.

      "Ja, ja, und deal da carts," he grumbled.

      They resumed the game and the captain won steadily. It was very late when Hazzard, Redman, and Chang threw in their hands, and the captain looked at Reisenbaum, saying, "I'll see your bet Mr. Reisenbaum, and raise."

      The color of Reisenbaum's face began to turn scarlet. He fumbled with his money for a moment, and then shoved all of it into the center of the table.

      "Und I raise," he snapped.

      The captain put his cards on the table, reached out and counted the money that Reisenbaum had pushed forward.

      "All right, I'll just call this time," and he placed his money in front of him. "What do you have?"

      Reisenbaum slowly turned over his cards. He had three queens.

      "That's a very nice hand," grinned the captain. "But not quite good enough," and he turned over three cards. All of them kings.

      Reisenbaum could not control his rage. He snorted, kicked his chair back as he stood up, and stomped out of the lounge.

      "Well," said Hazzard. "That just about cleans me out for tonight."

      "Yes," said Redman as he rose from his seat. "I think it is about time for me to get a good night's sleep. If you gentlemen will excuse me," and he strode stiff necked to the door.

      The captain was busy counting his winnings as Hazzard got up and left the table without a word. He walked up to the small bar in the corner of the lounge and tapped the sleeping Chinese boy on the shoulder.

      "How about a Scotch and water, okay?" he said.

      "Okey, okey, Scotchy water, okey, okey," came the singsong reply as the boy jumped up and began rattling bottles about in his search for Scotch.

      "Mind if I join you?" said the voice of Chang.

      Hazzard turned around to face him. "No, not at all," he said.

      Chang looked at the Chinese boy. "One more Scotch and water."

      "Okey, okey, Scotchy water, okey, okey," grinned the boy.

      There it was again, thought Hazzard, the same uneasy feeling. There was something familiar about Chang. Whatever it was, it was not pleasant. Chang had gotten on in Hong Kong. That was four days ago. Sick in his cabin, the captain had said. But how had Hazzard missed seeing Chang when he came on board.

      You came aboard at Hong Kong, eh?" said Hazzard, trying to act friendly. "It's strange I haven't seen you before this."

      "I came aboard early in the morning, just before the ship sailed, and I have stayed in my cabin until tonight," Chang explained. "I do not particularly like sea voyages myself, but find them necessary at times."

      "If it was up to me, I'd fly," commented Hazzard. "This is too slow. Why do you find it necessary to travel on this crummy ship, Mr. Chang?"

      The boy placed the drinks on the bar, and Chang raised his glass to Hazzard. The drink was warm without ice, and after a small sip Chang set it back on the bar.

      "I am a merchant, and I find it convenient to travel with my merchandise," said Chang. "I have quite a sizeable cargo on board."

      "Looks like you don't trust anyone," observed Hazzard. "If you have to ride around with all your stuff."

      Chang smiled at this. "And you Mr. Hazzard, do you trust everyone? And since we are both being curious, what excuse do you have for traveling on this, as you say, crummy ship?"

      Hazzard downed the last of his drink. "I like the sea air, and it's more exciting traveling by ship."

      "Yes, Mr. Hazzard, I agree with you, and you never can tell just how exciting it will become," and Chang bowed slightly as he turned and walked away.

      Hazzard watched as Chang left the lounge. The ship was full of weird characters, and he smiled as he thought that maybe the others were thinking the same about him. He had the boy make him another Scotch and water. Surprising how much a warm Scotch and water tasted like medicine. He gave up the idea of having a third drink and returned to his cabin.

      It was another suffocating night. The small electric fan over his bunk breathed a steady stream of hot air over his body. He tried to he still and think of snow storms he had seen when he was a boy.

4

The Hostage

      MORNING came, and Hazzard lay half naked on his bunk, his eyes shut, the sweat running down his sides in tiny rivers, debating whether he could stand another smelly shower of sea water or not. He had just made up his mind not to move when a deadly silence engulfed the ship.

      The engines had stopped, and the steady vibrations that fill a moving ship were suddenly gone. Hazzard opened his eyes. The electric fan above his head was revolving slowly to a halt. He listened carefully and only the faraway sound of water lapping at the sides of the freighter came to his ears.

      All of his senses snapped alert, he felt a chill surge through his body like an electric shock. This feeling he had known before. He knew the meaning. Danger!

      Standing up, he peered cautiously through the open port hole above his bunk. Nothing but the empty deck, the sun, the sea, and silence.

      Hazzard

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