“Possibly not,” Don put in. “We can’t tell, but I feel we should go to the shore and see if we can pick up anything there.”
They now said goodbye to the sage, who did not feel inclined to go any further with them. He was used to solitude and did not care to mix in with their problems and adventures, and he refused any pay for his hospitality or information. He once more expressed his belief that they would be fortunate in their search and then gravely turned his horse’s head back to his mountains, seemingly no longer interested in what went on. With feelings of warmest gratitude for him the party from the ranch went on their journey toward the coast.
The coast was reached in the afternoon and they began to head north, watching both land and sea for any trace of the missing boys. Hunger at last caused them to halt while Yappi prepared and cooked the rabbit which he had killed, and the others enjoyed the meat of the little animal. As soon as this simple repast was completed they once more moved on.
“What are we to do if we don’t find them on this trip?” asked Don.
“We’ll have to go to San Diego, recruit a good-sized force and hunt Sackett from one end of Lower California to the other,” replied Ned, grimly. “And we may have to get the proper Mexican officials on the job, too. You see, it is possible that Sackett may have carried them off to Mexico, and if that is the case we’ll have a fine time locating them. But we’ll leave no stone unturned to do it, you may be sure.”
“And in the meantime we’ll leave Yappi at the ranch in case any news of them should come there,” the professor suggested.
Yappi was riding ahead and was just topping a small rise when they saw him slip from the back of his horse and lie flat on the ground. He motioned to them to dismount and they did so, wondering. Cautiously they moved up beside him and looked over the brow of the small hill into the vale below.
The sight that met their eyes astonished them. Off to their left was the sea, not now the calm Pacific, but a tumbling, boiling stretch of water, still showing the effects of the storm. An eighth of a mile off shore a schooner lay on its side, the black expanse of the hull showing above the water, a portion of the keel rising out of the waves. The ship had evidently run aground during the storm, for there was a gaping hole in the bow and the masts were snapped off short, the rigging strewing the deck and trailing into water. But it was the sight of several men in the hollow below which drew their greatest attention.
The men were members of the crew of the schooner and they were at present gathered around a small fire. They had been wet and bedraggled and were gathered close to the fire as though their only concern was to get warm. Some of the crew had gathered wood and lay it piled high nearby. No one was keeping watch and the party on the hill top had not been seen.
“Jim and Terry aren’t there,” whispered Don, in disappointment.