Inspector Burton was thoughtful. The others remained silent, waiting for him to speak.
"I believe you are correct," he said at length. "Ensign Warwick, what do you say?"
"It certainly looks as if Santa Cruz is the smugglers' hangout."
"And you, Mr. Temple?"
The latter smiled and shook his head.
"I have no opinion one way or the other," he said.
Then Inspector Burton turned to the boys.
"Well, lads," he said. "I have a proposition to make to you. I really believe we have located the smugglers' hangout; that it is on Santa Cruz Island. And, while it is a big island, yet the smugglers' headquarters undoubtedly must be on the seaward side, as I earlier explained, and there are not many places on that rocky shore where a landing could be made.
"I was fortunate on arrival yesterday to get in touch with an old Mexicano, a native of this country, who at one time many years ago tended cattle on Santa Cruz Island when an early-day rancher attempted to maintain a cattle ranch there. He found the grazing too poor to make the venture profitable and gave up his project. This old fellow, whom I located down in the Mexican quarter of the town, gave me much valuable information.
"For one thing, I questioned him closely as to the possibilities for making a landing on the seaward side of Santa Cruz. He said there was only one place really practical, and that was the mouth of a creek near the western extremity of the island. At other places, he said, cliffs descended abruptly to the sea, and the waves always were high. Boats could not safely land.
"Now, if the smugglers are on Santa Cruz Island that must be their location-up that creek. The ships can stand off shore, while small boats ply back and forth between the ship and the creek, landing the smuggled Chinese coolies. Probably, somewhere up the creek, the smugglers have a number of rude barracks, providing temporary shelter for the Chinese until they can be dispersed to the mainland. Also their radio plant must be up there."
He paused, and Frank eagerly asked the question trembling on the lips of all three chums.
"You said you had a proposition to make us, Inspector?"
The Secret Service man smiled.
"Yes, I have a proposition," he said. "Briefly, would you care to accompany us tonight on an expedition to Santa Cruz?"
"Would we?"
All three expelled the exclamation simultaneously.
Inspector Burton turned to Mr. Temple.
"These boys have shown such ingenuity so far," he said, "and have been of such aid, that I feel I owe it to them to take them along. Of course, they must have your consent. And I would be delighted to have you with me, too, if you would care to come."
"Not I, thank you," said Mr. Temple, with emphasis. "And I don't know about consenting to your request in regard to the boys. It is very kind of you, and I can see you sympathize with their adventurous inclinations. But, won't it be dangerous? Won't the smugglers put up a stiff fight?"
"There is that possibility, of course," said Inspector Burton. "I believe, however, that when they see the uniforms of Uncle Sam's fighters, and discover an armed vessel of the navy off shore, they will surrender without resistance. Most folks, you know, have a great horror of running foul of the government and its armed forces. Police they might resist, but Uncle Sam's sailors and soldiers overawe them."
"Yes, I believe that is true," said Mr. Temple. "Still--"
"However, Mr. Temple," said the Secret Service man, hastily, "I can sympathize with your anxiety, and if you object I withdraw my invitation to the boys."
"Dad, you have got to let us go," pleaded big Bob. "Why, as Inspector Burton says, there will be little danger. Besides, we aren't babies. We have taken care of ourselves pretty capably under trying circumstances this summer, haven't we? Now, haven't we?"
He stood above his father as he spoke, having leaped to his feet in his anxiety.
"Yes, you have, Bob," said his father. He put up his hands before him as if for protection, and bent away in mock terror from his big son. "Don't strike. I surrender."
The three chums shouted with delight.
"But, remember," Mr. Temple warned. "I want you to go on this expedition, bearing the same advice the mother gave her daughter. You may 'hang your clothes on a hickory limb, but don't go near the water.'
In other words, if there is any fighting, stay out of it. Unless, of course, you are personally attacked, or your side is hard pressed."
"Righto, Dad. We'll remember," said Bob.
"And now, boys," said Inspector Burton, "I have my arrangements to make.
So, if you will meet me at the pier-or, better, aboard the Sub Chaser-at seven o'clock tonight, I'll excuse myself."
He arose, asking Ensign Warwick to accompany him.
"As for me," said Mr. Temple, when the two officers had left the room, followed by Inventor Bender, "I'm worn out, and am going to take a nap.
You boys have two or three hours of spare time. It would do you all good, in view of your trip tonight, to try to snatch a few hours' sleep.
But I suppose it would be impossible for you to compose yourselves?"
"Couldn't be done, Dad," agreed Bob. "We'll go out and look at the town for an hour or so. We can be back around five-thirty, get a bit of dinner, with you, and then go to the boat."
CHAPTER XXI
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.