"We can't go that way," Frank decided quickly. "The thieves are up in the gully helping get that car out of the mud."
Joe looked up at the steep cliff.
"We certainly can't climb up here."
"We can go out the way we came in. The roadster came down the beach, you remember. We may find the trail back."
The storm had spent its force and a fine drizzle of rain was now falling. The boys went back down the beach, the flashlight illuminating the way.
By the smoothness of the beach they knew that this was the route the car had followed on the way in. Later on they came to an open stretch of sand. Beyond that lay rocks.
There was a break in the cliff, and by the flashlight, the boys picked out an automobile track in a patch of sand, leading toward low bushes that masked the entrance to a gully.
"This is the place we're looking for," said Frank. "I'll bet the roadster came down through here."
He pushed aside the wet bushes. In the damp grass, the track was still plainly visible. The gully was dank with undergrowth, but there were evidences of a wide trail.
"We're getting there, anyway. From the direction, this ought to take us up to the Shore Road."