The red light on the board snapped on and blinked. Russ reached out and
slammed home the lever, twirled dials. It was only another passenger
ship. They relaxed, but not too much.
* * * * *
"I wonder what he's up to," said Russ.
Stutsman's car had stopped in the dock section of New York. Crumbling,
rotting piers and old tumbledown warehouses, deserted and unused since
the last ship sailed the ocean before giving way to air commerce, loomed
darkly, like grim ghosts, in the darkness.