"Now," said Ensign Warwick. "We'll take up the trail. I haven't heard a sound for some time. But somewhere up that creek Inspector Burton's party has met the enemy, and we must go to the rescue."
Turning to the Chinaman, he said:
"Charley, you are interpreter here. Don't deny it. You know where 'Black George' and his party have gone. And you know the road to follow. You have been violating the laws of this country and you are in my power now. If you do what I say, it may be easier for you later. Now I want you to lead the way."
Charley Lung looked at him through slitted eyes. There was not a trace of expression on his face to show that he understood or that he feared.
"A' light," he said. "Come along dlis way."
He struck off at once at a tangent from the barracks, bending his steps along a narrow trail following the creek into a canyon between high hills. The others followed, Ensign Warwick gripping Charley by an arm.
The three chums were at the rear of the procession. As the others dimly seen in the darkness turned a bend in the trail and disappeared up the canyon, Jack chanced to look back. The searchlight still shot steadily, a golden bar of light athwart the darkness and accentuating it by contrast. In its rays the barracks stood out clear-cut as an etching, with the figure of Doniphan, the sentry, before the door. But Jack's keen eyes saw something else, and he gripped his companions' arms and pointed upward.
Their gaze followed. Gradually their eyes picked out the dim bulk of the radio station seen earlier in the glare of the searchlight. But what had alarmed Jack? They could see nothing.
"There. That light. There it is again."
Through a window in the end wall of the station blinked a light, once, twice, thrice. Then all was dark again.
"Signal," said Jack with conviction. "Somebody's up there."
"Come on, let's find out," said the impetuous Frank, starting forward.
Jack restrained him.
"Better tell Ensign Warwick."
Without a word, Bob turned and darted away up the trail. He was back in five or six minutes.
"Can't see them," he said, "they must have left the trail and struck off at an angle somewhere. I used my flashlight, too, but couldn't see a soul."
"Very well," said Jack. "Then there's nothing else for it. We can't let that light go unchallenged. We'll have to investigate ourselves. Come on."
The three chums started picking their way among the loose stones, up the side of the hill, in the darkness.
CHAPTER XXIV
A SPY CAPTURED
"I haven't seen any further flashes, Jack. Have you?"
"No, Frank. Bob, what do you make of it?"
"Well, you know more about radio than we. As far as I know, that light wasn't any indication that the radio was in use, because there is no such indication possible."
"You're right, of course, Bob. That light was a signal to somebody somewhere. I wonder--"
"What?" asked Frank.
"Whether it was a signal to some ship off shore?"
"Or to the smugglers who are inland," suggested Frank.
"It might have been the latter," said Jack. "I hadn't thought of that.
Let's see whether this hilltop commands a view up the canyon."
They had paused beside a clump of rocks some thirty feet from the nearest corner of the radio station, after toiling up the steep slope.
They spoke in whispers. Not a sign of life was apparent about the station, yet they could not have been deceived regarding the appearance of the lights, ere starting to climb upward. What did it mean? It was this they had been discussing, and now, at Jack's suggestion, they faced about. A smothered exclamation broke from Jack's lips:
"Why, this hilltop must be in sight for miles."
Even in the moonless darkness, it was apparent that such was, indeed, the case. The winding canyon, up which had disappeared Ensign Warwick and his relief party going to the aid of Inspector Burton in his fight with the smugglers, was commanded for a long distance by this outjutting hill on which the radio station had been erected. Two rows of hills, shadowy, bulking in the darkness, stretched ahead on either side and the canyon lay between.
"Fellows, our arrival and landing was watched," whispered Frank, with conviction. "Then when Ensign Warwick set out with his men, the spy signaled from here by means of a light. And so the smugglers were informed and forewarned."
"Yes," said Bob suddenly, "and say--"
The big fellow did not often speak, but when he did it was usually to the point. Bob and Jack looked at him.
"Say what?" asked Jack.
"Why, that Chinaman Charley Lung. I'll bet he's in on it. He's leading our men into a trap."
"I believe you've guessed it, Bob," said Frank, his low voice taking on increased excitement. "Remember how he looked?"
"Looked like a heathen idol to me," grunted Bob. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, a kind of sly look in his eye, and something sly in his voice, too.
'All light,' he said. 'Come 'long.' I tell you, now that Bob has suggested it, I believe that Chinaman was planning to play the traitor, and lead Ensign Warwick into an ambush."
For several seconds all three crouched there beside the rocks, thinking.
And their thoughts were not of the pleasantest. Their party was split.
Inspector Burton with one force was somewhere inland engaged with the smugglers. Perhaps he had encountered a large force, and was hard pressed. Certainly, the sound of firing had grown more and more distant until it could no longer be heard, and that seemed to indicate he was being beaten back.
Then there was Ensign Warwick with the second force. And, if their surmise was correct, the smugglers had been informed by signal from the radio plant that he was coming, and Charley Lung, moreover, was leading the naval force into a trap.
"What could they do? What could they do?"
That was the question in each mind. Instinctively, as always in a crisis, the others turned to Jack.
"First of all," said Jack, "we have got to find who is in the radio station, and capture him. It won't do to leave an enemy in our rear."
"What if there is more than one," objected Frank.
"Not likely," said Jack. "One man to spy and give the signal would be sufficient. More would be a waste of men."