“Well, if you’re through talking I guess we’ll move along,” suggested Tom at this point. “There are a few empty cells in the jail at San Diego, I understand, and they’ll just about accommodate you chaps.”
“Are—are you going to put us in jail?” faltered one of the prisoners, a young man.
“That’s what we are,” answered Tom.
“Oh, don’t. I’ll tell—I’ll——”
“You’ll keep still—that’s what you’ll do!” snapped Hemp. “I’ll fix you if you don’t!” and he glared at the youth in such a way that the latter said no more. “I’ll manage this thing,” went on Hemp. “You keep still and they can’t do a thing to us. Now go ahead; take us to jail if you want to.”
“That’s what we will,” declared Tom, and a little later the prisoners were on their way to San Diego, where they were locked up. Some suspected wreckers had been taken into custody when Mr. Duncan was accused, but nothing had been proved against them.
“Well, that was a good day’s work!” declared Mr. Hadley late that afternoon, when he and the moving picture boys were back at their quarters. “We not only got the wreckers, but a fine film of the capture besides.”
“And we’re in it,” said Blake. “Joe, how will it seem to see yourself on a screen?”
“Oh, rather odd, I guess,” and Joe spoke listlessly.
“Now look here!” exclaimed his chum. “I know what’s worrying you. It’s what Hemp said about your father; isn’t it?”