“What’s that?” he said.
“Yes, sir,” answered Frank, stoutly. “That’s what they said. I can’t repeat the exact words. There were only snatches here and there that reached me. But my mind kept following the thought between the words. Oh, you know how it is.”
Mr. Temple nodded. He had a great respect for Frank’s intelligence. Often before he had been witness to the lad’s almost uncanny ability to guess another’s thoughts.
“But just what was said, Frank?” he asked. “Anything that you could hear definitely?”
“Yes,” said Frank, “there was. There was something
about Ensenada. Isn’t that in Mexico, on the seacoast somewhere?”
“Peninsula of Lower California, Mexican territory,” said Jack. “Go on.”
“And there was something, too, about Chinese coolies and motor boats and night running and——” Frank paused for dramatic effect. He obtained it.
“And what?” demanded big Bob.
“And radio,” added Frank, triumphantly. “That was when I heard best. One of the two men was explaining something to the other, and he became excited and raised his voice. He said: ‘With Handby in the revenue force keeping us in touch, we’ll be fixed right. We’ve got the radio station at the cove completed, and can guide the coolie boats past every danger.’”