“It’s a sea story, and a wreck figures in it.”
“A real wreck?” asked Joe, in some surprise. “That will be hard to do; won’t it?”
“It sure will, and I don’t just know how to manage it. I could buy some old tub, and wreck it, I suppose, but I want it to look natural. While I don’t wish anyone bad luck, I do wish, if a wreck had to happen, that it would come about here, so we could get moving pictures of it. But I don’t suppose I’ll have any such good luck.
“However, I’ll have to think about this. Now you boys can have a couple of days off, if you like, and I hope you’ll find those miscreants.”
“I wish we could get you some moving pictures of them,” spoke Blake; “but I’m afraid it’s out of the question.”
The boys were soon at the scene of the disappointment the night before. Daylight revealed more clearly the haste with which the wreckers had removed their false lantern. Stones were scattered about, as were bits of broken wood, wire, rope and other accessories.
“Now,” said Joe, after they had looked about, “the thing to do is to trail them.”
“And the first thing is to get a clue,” added Blake.
They looked about, using the knowledge they had gained from being with the cowboy the time they filmed the pictures of the Moqui Indians. For some time their efforts were without success. They cast about in all directions, looking for some lead that would tell them in which direction the wreckers had gone.
“I should think they’d go farther down the coast,” suggested Joe. “They certainly wouldn’t come toward the lighthouse, and they wouldn’t go inland, for to work their plan they need to be near the shore.”