"It might be a good scheme to lie in wait for a while, and see if any of these hounds come back on their trail," suggested Jim.
The engineer of the Sea Eagle who was at present out of his element, drew a deep sigh and likewise drew up his belt a couple of holes, which was his alternative for a meal, that he seemed fated to go without. The unsympathetic Jim grinned at his comrade in arms.
"I tell you, Chief," he said, "we will catch one of these grand rascals and cook him a la cannibal."
"I would be most happy to," replied the engineer suavely and savagely.
"We will move down the ravine a ways," ordered Jim.
"My idea was that they would come down from the top of the cliff," said the engineer with cool criticism.
"That was my idea, too," said Jim cheerfully; "then we might follow them without too much chance of being caught ourselves."
"You are certainly long on strategy, James," remarked the engineer.
"Hello, Berwick," exclaimed Jim; "there is a light ahead."
Sure enough on the beach at the mouth of the ravine shone the yellow light from a small square window. They crept up carefully to the place. It was rather a curious affair. It was simply two old street cars joined together by a wooden vestibule; one was used as a sleeping room the other was a tiny beach eating place. Jim looked in cautiously through the window and his eyes widened and his hand went involuntarily to where his revolver usually hung. He remained there a full half minute taking in the scene within while the engineer stood a little ways back in apparent indifference, but he was carefully taking in the whole situation. A short distance away the waters of the bay were lapping through the darkness onto the beach.