“I wish Mr. Havens could drop out of the sky just about now!” suggested Carl. “Perhaps he could tell us what we ought to do.”
“I think I know what we ought to do now,” Ben interrupted. “We ought to go down to the end of the canyon and see if there are any steamers gathering about that beacon light. We wouldn’t exactly like to have a mob of cutthroats rushing in here with another cargo of Chinks.”
“That’s a fact!” Carl agreed. “We ought to be finding out what that beacon means!”
The boys walked down to the end of the canyon and looked almost straight below into the tumbling surf of the Pacific ocean. The second beacon was on a headland a little more than a quarter of a mile to the south.
Its flames leaped high in the comparatively still air, and a wide area of mountain and sea was disclosed. Standing out a short distance, pitching heavily in the swell of the ocean, lay two coast steamers of fair size.
“There they are!” Carl exclaimed. “Just watch, and you’ll see boats loaded with Chinks making their way to some cove in the coast not far distant.”
“Well, what are we going to do?” asked Ben.
“We just can’t stay here!” shouted Carl.
“Of course not!” Jimmie added.
“What about it, Kit?” Ben asked, turning to the boy with a laugh.