Page:Weird Tales Volume 36 Number 9 (1943-01).djvu/29



By ALICE-MARY SCHNIRRING

HE yacht-broker stopped, his feet slipping in the cold mud of the boat-yard, and pointed to a sleek hull that lifted above them, balanced gracefully on its slender fin keel, and supported by wooden shearings.

"Now, there's just the boat for you, Mr. Chambers," he said, a little wearily. "Of