AT SANTA CRUZ ISLAND
It was early twilight when a taxicab deposited Mr. Temple and the chums
at the entrance to the pier. At the suggestion of Inspector Burton, the
boys had purchased and donned corduroy trousers. Each carried also a
heavy sweater to be worn later against the evening chill, for they had
been warned that with the going down of the sun the air would become
sharp.
"Pass," said a sailor mounting guard at the big gates which, opened on
their arrival, since had been swung across the entrance. "You are
expected."
He was one of the men who had been on deck watch earlier aboard the Sub
Chaser, and had been placed there because he would recognize them.
Evidently the others of the party already had arrived, for the guard
barred the gate and followed them.
"How will I go through the gates when I return," objected Mr. Temple,
turning around.
"The pier watchman will see you out, sir," said the sailor, a young
fellow, touching his cap.
Struck by the beauty of the scene, the party paused several moments. To
the boys it was a revelation. To Mr. Temple, who had visited Santa
Barbara in the past, it was a recurring delight. In the west, where the
sun only a few moments before had sunk beneath the waters over the
shoulder of San Miguel, the sky was yet bright. But behind them
deepening twilight lay over the tree-embowered town, while still farther
to the east the mountains were in darkness and lights twinkled here and
there among the houses in the foothills.
Over all was an atmosphere of peace, of lazy contentment, so much in
contrast with the object of their expedition that it was remarked by the
sensitive Frank.
"As peaceful as Paradise here," he said. "While out there----" He waved
his hand to indicate the west, and paused expressively.
The others looked at the distant islands, humped mountainously like
crouching camels against the darkening western sky.
"I wonder what will happen?" said Bob.
"Come on, fellows," added Jack. "No time for fancies. The boat is
tooting for us."
They hurried along the pier to the stairway. Mr. Temple did not descend
to the float, but remained leaning on the railing. He was inclined to be
anxious about the welfare of the boys, but Inspector Burton reassured
him.
"I'll see they come to no harm," he said. "And young huskies can't be
coddled forever, you know."
"Yes, I realize that," said Mr. Temple. "They are growing up. I know
such experiences are good for them, and teach them self-reliance and
sharpen their wits in a crisis. That is why I am letting them go. That
is why I let them make that wild dash into Mexico, too. Just the same,
Inspector, one of the three is my son, and the others are as close as
sons to me. And--well, you have to be a father to appreciate it."
"I'm only an old bachelor," said Inspector Burton. "But I think I can
understand. Well, good-bye, and rest assured I shall look out for their
welfare."
With that, he descended to the boat, which at once forged away from the
float. The boys stood at the rail, waving farewell to Mr. Temple until
his figure dwindled and was lost to sight in the growing darkness
landward.
"Good old Dad," remarked Bob, feelingly, as they at last turned away
from the rail and made their way forward. "He'll be worried about us all
the time. But he put his feelings aside, just the same, and let us go."
"He's a peach," said Jack.
"You bet he is," Frank echoed, emphatically.
For some time they stood at the rail forward in silence, each immersed
in his own thoughts. But brooding of any sort was foreign to them. And
presently they shook off the slight thoughtfulness into which parting
with Mr. Temple had thrown them, and began to discuss the possibilities
that lay ahead.
Presently Inspector Burton joined them.
"Well, boys," said he in a kindly tone, "not worried about the outcome,
are you?"
"Oh, no, sir," answered Frank. "Just talking over what might happen."
"That's right, don't worry," said the Secret Service man. "Probably
there will be no fighting. These fellows may not have any force at their
hangout to speak of. Perhaps, only the crew of the trawler from which
you escaped will be on hand. If we have luck, we can surprise them. And
I doubt very much whether they will put up any resistance against Uncle
Sam's men."
"How many men have you?" queried Jack.
"Twenty-two in the crew, including Ensign Warwick, you three, Doctor
Marley and myself--twenty-seven in all."
"Doctor Marley?" exclaimed Bob, surprised.
"Yes, he is a peace-loving man," remarked Inspector Burton, with a
slight smile. "But I considered it necessary to have a medical man along
in case of accident, and persuaded him to come. It was rather difficult,
because he fears the anger of 'Black George' if the latter succeeds in
laying hands on him. But he consented when I showed him how preposterous
it was to expect any real resistance."
"You really expect, sir, that we can locate the smugglers' place in the
darkness?" asked Jack.
"Thanks to the sound detector which you boys were instrumental in
discovering," said the Secret Service man, "I believe the smugglers are
on the island of Santa Cruz. And such being the case, they probably are
in one certain spot, as I told you before. But, come into the cabin and
I'll show you a map."
He led the way to the tiny cabin, the boys at his heels, and while
unrolling a large map of the Channel islands, continued:
"I had hoped, after leaving you this afternoon, to obtain a guide. But
the old Mexicano who earlier had told me about the topography of the
island, was aghast at the proposal that he should accompany us. He was
very superstitious, I could see. Apparently, he feared some sort of
ghost said to roam over the island. I couldn't make much sense of what
he said. At any rate, I had to give up the idea of obtaining him as
guide, and, as it was too late to look for another, I came off without
one. However, I believe we shall have little difficulty making our way.
Now, here is the island.
"You see from this map," he continued, "the coastline of the mainland is
not north and south here, but almost due east and west. The islands are
south of Santa Barbara. Here is Santa Cruz, and this is its northern
shore, about twenty-seven miles in length.
"It is on this northern shore that we will land one party, while another
slips around West Point, the extremity of the island. The land party
will make its way through the hills to the headwaters of this little
stream emptying into the ocean on the southern shore. The boat will
continue around the extremity of West Point to that stream. Thus we will
have the enemy between us."
"You feel that somewhere up that stream the smugglers are located?"
asked Bob.
"Yes, and probably near its mouth. The old Mexicano told me the stream
broadened out to considerable width, making a small bay in which several
schooners could ride."
"And which party will we go with?"
"I think it better for you boys to stay aboard the boat. Ensign Warwick
will command the craft, while I will take a party overland."
"Very good, sir," said Jack. "But we're not likely to see much
excitement aboard the Sub Chaser, are we?"
Inspector Burton smiled tolerantly, noting the disappointment in Jack's
voice.
"Oh, you can't tell," he said, rolling up the map. "You fellows may have
all the excitement. But, come, let us go on deck and see where we are.
It's a run of only twenty-five or thirty miles to West Point and, as
this boat is under forced draught of twenty-four knots an hour, we
should be nearing the island. You see, time has been flying. It's almost
eight o'clock."
The moon had not yet risen, but the stars were out and a faint afterglow
of sunset still lingered in the western sky. Against that sky, ahead,
there loomed a huge island with a spine of mountains down the center so
lofty as to wring a cry of surprise from the boys.
"I hadn't expected them to be so tall," said Jack.
"Two thousand feet," said Inspector Burton.
The boat altered its course as it approached the land and, with engines
muffled, was running westward at reduced speed. Alongshore, the boys
could see the ghostly white breaking of the surf.
"Where will we land?" asked Bob. "The mountains seem to come right down
to the sea."
"We are rounding Diablo Point in the center of the northern shore now,"
explained Inspector Burton. "There, ahead, you can see the shore curves
inward. Farther ahead, toward West Point on the other side of this
little bay, the mountains dwindle out, and there is a sandy shore on
which we can land. I'll go ashore with my command and then strike back
through the mountains for that stream--a distance of three or four miles.
"Ensign Warwick," he said, turning to the young naval officer, who had
joined them in the bow; "after putting us ashore, do you make your way
with as little noise as possible around West Point and down the coast to
the creek. It should not be difficult to locate.
"Allowing for possible time lost in going astray on our part, we should
be pretty near the mouth of the creek two hours after landing. I shall
fire three shots in rapid succession when we come up with the enemy.
That will be your signal. Do you then make your way into the creek, and
seize the trawler or any other craft you find there.
"Have your rapid-firers unlimbered and ready for action, in case of
resistance. And remember to throw your searchlight on shore to light up
the scene when I send up a rocket.
"And now, if your small boats are ready, and the men to accompany me
selected, I'll say '_au revoir_,' for I can see your pilot is bringing
us to, and evidently has singled out the beach where we must land."
Eleven men were set ashore with Inspector Burton, the small boats which
carried them returned and were hoisted aboard, and then the Sub Chaser
began nosing her way ahead once more.