ENTER INSPECTOR BURTON
While the others still sat where he had left them, regarding each other
in speechless surprise, Inspector Burton returned, closed and locked the
door, and resumed his chair as if nothing out of the ordinary had
occurred.
"Thought I heard someone listening outside the door," he explained.
"When I opened it there was nobody in sight. Your room is only two doors
from an angle in the hall. So I ran to the turning and looked along the
corridor, but it was empty."
"Now, what is it?" he asked.
Mr. Temple explained, and when he had concluded, Frank once more
rehearsed the scraps of conversation which he had overheard the two
low-voiced men drop on the observation platform of their train the
previous night.
Inspector Burton's eyes blazed with satisfaction. He pounded one
clenched hand into the palm of the other, repeating the gesture several
times.
"Good," said he. "Good."
Turning to Frank he commanded:
"Describe these men for me."
Frank complied. At the description of the man who had scrutinized Frank
on the train and whom Frank believed he had seen again at breakfast,
Inspector Burton uttered an exclamation.
"Do you know him?" asked Frank, eagerly.
"Indeed I do," said Inspector Burton. "I believe I saw him in the lobby
downstairs, although he did not see me as far as I could tell. He was
lurking behind a pillar."
"Who is he?"
"He's a man of many aliases. Folwell will do as well as any other.
'Black George' is his name in the underworld, because of his swarthy
complexion and raven black hair. He's the leader of a powerful gang of
underworld characters, a gang with ramifications in many cities not only
here but on the China Coast, too. He's been responsible for many
deviltries on the Pacific Coast for years, but we have never been able
to lay anything definite at his door. It'll be a feather in the cap of
any man who can get the goods on 'Black George'."
Frank was excited, and showed it. His chums were, too. Mr. Temple could
not restrain an exclamation.
"Then what this young man overheard will be of some value to you?" he
demanded.
"Value?" repeated Inspector Burton. "It will, indeed. Lately the
smuggling of Chinese coolies into the country has enormously increased.
We know they are coming in but we cannot stop them. We suspected, of
course, that there was a leak somewhere in our forces. We have managed
to stop the smuggling across the border on land pretty well. But all our
efforts to put a stop to bringing in of Chinese by water have been
unavailing. We have a fleet of fast revenue cutters and sub chasers
operating off the coast of Southern California, but somehow the coolie
smugglers coming up from Mexico manage to elude us in the night and land
their human cargo in some unlocated cove whence, undoubtedly, they are
whisked inland by waiting motor cars and hidden."
"I should think you could patrol the whole coast, if necessary, and
locate the rendezvous," said Jack.
Inspector Burton shook his head with a wry smile.
"My young friend," said he, "if you knew more about the ways of
government, you would think differently. We have to do a tremendous
amount of work on small appropriations and with a limited force. Ours is
not a spectacular branch of the service, and the gentlemen in Congress
see no occasion to spend money on us. They prefer to spend it where it
will show. Moreover, now that the World War has increased the national
debt, they are shouting for economy. Instead of giving us more men and
money, the men who hold the purse strings are cutting us down."
Mr. Temple nodded understandingly.
"But this tip about Handby," said Frank, returning to the first subject,
"won't that help you?"
"It will, indeed," said Inspector Burton. "Handby is employed in
Southern California, operating out of Los Angeles and San Diego. Just to
show you how valuable I consider your information, I'll say that since
sitting here I have made up my mind to make a trip immediately to the
south myself. Handby shall be put under surveillance at once."
"Won't you arrest him and try to make him confess?" queried Jack.
"No. That would scare off the others. I'll watch Handby in hope that he
will lead us to his associates, and thus we will be enabled to scoop in
a number of the crooks and break up the smuggling ring."
"About this radio station in the cove?" said Frank. "You remember? I
told you I overheard 'Black George' telling his companion the radio at
the cove would keep in touch with the coolie boats?"
Inspector Burton nodded.
"That's important, of course," he said. "But as I told you we haven't
sufficient men to make a systematic search of the coast. We'll have to
depend on Handby to betray the station to us."
"Not necessarily," interrupted Jack.
Inspector Burton glanced at him inquiringly.
"The government certainly has a powerful radio station or two out here
on the Pacific Coast," said Jack. "Hasn't it?"
"Why, yes," answered Inspector Burton. "There's a big one right here in
San Francisco. But, to tell you the truth, I've never paid much
attention to radio."
"Well, Jack has," said Mr. Temple, smiling. "He and his father are radio
fans. They have several big stations of their own under special
government license, on Long Island and in New Mexico. Jack probably
knows more about radio than about anything else."
"I don't know whether to take that as a compliment or a slap," laughed
Jack.
"A compliment, my boy, a compliment," said Mr. Temple, patting him on
the shoulder.
"Well," said Jack, "I'll confess I was caging a bit when I asked whether
the government had stations out here. I know it has. You know, you
fellows"--turning to his chums--"how dad and I have studied the history of
radio development. I remember that as far back as 1910 or 1912 the
Federal Telegraph Company carried on radio experiments out here between
stations at San Francisco, Stockton, Sacramento and Los Angeles."
"Is that so?" said Inspector Burton, regarding Jack with increased
respect. "Well, what did you mean awhile ago when you intimated it
wasn't necessary to trail Handby in order to locate the smuggling ring's
radio plant."
"Can you obtain the use of the government radio stations?" countered
Jack.
"Certainly."
"Well, then, to begin with, we can obtain the approximate location of
the smugglers' radio. Of course, they will speak in code, and probably
they will use a high wave length in order to avoid the confusion of any
amateur sending stations cutting in. Let the government stations here
and at Los Angeles tune until they pick up code. If it is weak here and
strong at Los Angeles, then the station sending code is nearer the
latter city."
"Well, that won't help us much," said Inspector Burton, disappointedly.
"We know, of course, that it is bound to be in the southern part of the
state, probably even below Los Angeles, in order that the coolie boats
can make their run from Mexico in one night."
"I see," said Jack, composedly. "But that wasn't the only thing I had in
mind."
"What else?"
"Let an expert at solving codes listen in when once the code
conversations are picked up. He can take down what he hears. The
probability is he can work out a solution. To a genuine expert, as I
understand it, there is no code that cannot be solved."
"But," objected Mr. Temple, "the code picked up and deciphered might be
from some station like yours, Jack."
"In which case you mean it would be about legitimate business?" said
Jack. "But the government will have licensed stations listed, and their
codes on file. No, I believe it would be a good move to put a code
expert at work at the Los Angeles station."
"So do I," said Inspector Burton, warmly. "I want to thank you. And I
want to thank you, too," he added, turning to Frank. "Your information
will undoubtedly prove to be of the very greatest value."
He rose.
"I shall have to go now," he said. "I suppose you all will be viewing
the city and taking in the sights. I wish I could stay to show it to
you. But that cannot be. What you have told me makes it necessary for me
to leave at once for the south. I shall arrange my affairs here and take
the night train to Los Angeles. I may not see you again. But I know you
will be interested in the outcome and"--turning to Mr. Temple--"if you
give me your address I promise to let you know."
Mr. Temple took out a business card and handed it to the other. Then he
accompanied him to the door.
"Good-bye," called the chums, in chorus. "Good luck."
"Well," said Bob, when his father returned, "that's that. Now, Dad, you
will want to attend to your business affairs today. What do you suggest
we do?"
"Hire a car," said his father, promptly, "and drive around the city. Be
back here at five. Then we'll dress and have dinner in one of the city's
famous restaurants. San Francisco is noted for its wonderful dining
places. Afterward, we can all go to a theatre or just walk around and
view the city at night."