Alex nosed about the summit for a minute and came back to the others with a paper from which emanated a peculiar odor in his hand.
“They didn’t cook here,” the boy said. “There are no signs of the fire having been used for that purpose, no scraps of food about, so I looked around to see what the fire was built for. I think I have found out. Look at this.”
“This,” was the paper he had found. Clay took it into his hand.
“Do you know what it is?” asked Case. “I think I do.”
“Well, unless I’m very much mistaken,” Clay answered, “this is a bit of paper which once wrapped what we call ‘red fire,’ used for lighting up parades, and also for signaling. The people who made this fire used it to signal from. There is no doubt about that.”
“Then there are two parties about here, perhaps three!” exclaimed Alex. “I think we’d better get into the Rambler and scud for the Pacific ocean. This is getting too thick for me.”
“I wonder if the men who built this fire, and who signaled from this rock, waited here for the Rambler to come down to them a wreck, with her crew drowned and pounded into unrecognizable masses by the rocks? It looks that way to me.”
“They wasn’t waiting here to give us any Christmas presents!” laughed Alex. “Come on, let’s be on our way! I don’t like the looks of things hereabouts, and Captain Joe is calling to us from the boat. Hurry up!”
Clay examined the dragging end of the anchor chain when they returned to the Rambler and discovered that it had been broken by prying one link open. It must have taken a strong tool and a powerful hand to make the break in the massive chain.
“What’s it all about?” demanded Case, as the motors were started once more, and the boat cut away through the water. “What are they after us for, I’d like to know? What are they after Gran for?”