Free Mystery Of The Sea Horse by Lee Falk

outside.
Getting around the door and out onto the porch cost the Phantom about ten seconds—enough time for the fleeing Anderson to get to the sidewalk.
As the Phantom dashed across Laura's dry lawn, Anderson leaped into the car waiting at the curb. It roared away into the hot morning.
The Phantom reached the street in time to get a good look at the rear license plate of the crimson compact.
Shaking his head, he returned to his investigation of the cottage.
"I wonder who they're working for?" he asked himself while he went through the den. "They're obviously not police, or narcotics agents." He began going through the desk drawers. "They could be some more of Danton's minions, but that seems doubtful. Well, I'll have to find out more about them."
In the back of the middle right-hand drawer, he found a new-looking book of matches. On the front of the folder, in gilt letters, it said: "All-American Cantina, Calle Pitanza, Mocosa, Mexico."
It was the only thing of interest he found in his half-hour search of the cottage.
    CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The sound of the wind rushing by her bedroom, slapping branches and leaves against the house and shaking windowpanes, finally woke Diana. She sat up, resting on one elbow, and frowned at the bureau clock. "Almost eleven," she said. "I wonder if he's back yet."
Putting on a yellow robe, she ventured into the hall. U
Uncle Dave, wearing a shirt rich with bright depictions of underwater life, stepped out of the kitchen. "Coffee?"
"Have you—is he back yet?"
"Not yet, Di," replied her uncle. He disappeared into the kitchen.
When she stepped into the room, he handed her a mug of steaming coffee. "Thanks," she said. "I suppose everything is all right."
"I'm sure it is. What would you like for breakfast?"
"Nothing now, thanks." The Santa Ana wind hit the house so hard, it seemed to jump. "These winds, are they dangerous?"
Nodding, the old man said, "I was listening to the news. Already some brush fires are starting up in the hills. Looks like Santa Barbara is in for a few bad—"
"I don't suppose the news said anything about . . . about the raid on Chris Danton's island?"
    "Not a word, no. Marcus doesn't want any of
that to get out until they've rounded up as many of them as they can."
Diana took a sip of the coffee, then made a face. "I guess so."
"Coffee too strong?"
She smiled. "A little."
"Never got over the habit of making it station- house style," he admitted. "Lots of people have—"
"Anything more about our . . . little shootout last night?" She tried another small sip.
"Local police have the slugs and one of the cartridges so far," said Uncle Dave. "But not the person who fired at us."
"It got so confused here last night, with all those federal agents tramning around," said Diana. "I never did get to tell the police I have a good idea who the girl was."
"A girl was handling that rifle? You never told me either," said Uncle Dave. "Who is she?"
"I think it's a girl I met on the island named Laura Leverson."
"Better let the police know."
"I'm sure she's on the run by now, but I'll phone in a few minutes."
"Don't have to phone," said Uncle Dave. "There's a man in a radio car outside the house. I can trot out and tell him."
"A man in a radio car?" The dark-haired girl put the mug down on the table. "Why, do they still suspect me of—?"
"Marcus told the local boys you may still be in danger," her uncle told her. "It's a precaution."
"And Basically," said the ea'm blond man who appeared on the threshold of the kitchen now, "a wise one. However, policemen who have to sit around in cars for long hours tend to get inattentive, making it fairly simple to—" "Who the hell are you?" shouted Uncle Dave.
"You can call me . . . oh, anything you like," said Anderson. "My name isn't important." He gestured at Diana with the snubnose .32 revolver in his right hand. "Will you please hurry and get dressed now, Miss Palmer."
"What do you want?" the girl asked.
"We want you to get dressed as quickly as possible