Peter Logan returns home from Southeast Asia to his former lifestyle, selling untaxed whiskey throughout the Carolinas. Along with an Australian companion, Sam Conyers, they search for a missing key, which will free a black man from the unwanted bondage.

The story is steeped in suspense and adventure, as these two fugitives dodge the law, tricksters of all sorts, and the wrath of organized crime.

He waddled to the stem's railing. He held a magnetic signaling device in his teeth after activating the unit piece. He pushed the can and it's contents over the railing into the sea. The sky was a reddish orange.

The magnetic device had to be attached to the port side of the ship in order for the signals to be picked up by a receiving radar unit ashore. The shoreline appeared to be as close as two hundred yards. Sam knew better than to put that kind of faith in such a mirage. They were miles out from the shoreline. It was going to be a long exhausting swim, if he had the stamina to last that long.

He leaned over the rail, attached the magnetic transmitter inconspicuously against the freighter's side. It held.

Sam climbed over the railing, turned facing a sea in turmoil, held his breath and leaped into the cold black depths of the swelling sea.

Within seconds after surfacing, a wave swell tumbled over him and pushed him back toward the screws of the ship. He tried to swim away, but the ocean was too rough. A strong swirling current lodged him against the stem of the freighter above the screws.

The pontoon flotilla appeared to be fifty yards forward of his right side. It's length had now stretched back toward him from a buoy located around the midsection of the ship. Another wave crested over his body, pushing him forcefully away from the screws, out beyond the stem of the freighter. He shook his head in an effort to catch his breath while simultaneously spitting and coughing out the salty water.

Ned and his men were lowering the last pontoon into the water when one of his workers shouted, "Did you hear someone yelling out there. I swear, someone is yelling out there, Ned."

"That's your imagination. I don't hear anythin'. Damn it, Alonzo. Perk your ears to my orders. What you been hearin' is that howlin' wind and the damn sea hittin' against this ship. Hurry up and do your work. That wind is sprayin' saltwater in gushes up here."

Ned kept shouting orders. "You two men over there, hurry up and crank that boom back in it's lock, and close those cargo doors. We're gettin' too much of that sea water .

"Alonzo! Call the captain. Tell him we're through. He can start up the engines.

"You men. Clean up this mess and call it a day, exceptin, those standing the night watch. I've got to go up and talk to the captain."

Sam's head bobbled in and out of the water. Desperately, he swam toward the flotilla. The engines started and the screws quickly churned the water around it. The wake pushed Sam from the freighter as it moved past him.