“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.”
“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.
“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.”
“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.