“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.”
“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.