They spoke of the matter to the theatrical man early the next morning, and he readily agreed to let them continue the work of trying to capture the wreckers.
"Go ahead, boys," he said. "Mr. Hadley and your lad, Macaroni, can take what films we want to-day. And I would like to see you get those wreckers. There"s no meaner criminal alive. All we"ll do for the next couple of days is to get ready for our big drama--I"ve planned a new one--and I sure will want you boys to help film it for me."
"What"s it going to be about?" asked Blake.
"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 sh.o.r.e."
"That"s right, to an extent," decided Blake; "but, at the same time, they may have wanted to give a false clue. So we mustn"t let that fool us. Keep on looking."
Narrowly they scanned the ground. It was covered with marks, not only of the footsteps of the wreckers, but of the men and boys themselves who had made the unsuccessful raid the night before.
"h.e.l.lo!" cried Blake, suddenly, as he dived into a clump of bushes.
"Here"s something!"
"What is it?" asked Joe.
"A piece of cloth, evidently torn from a man"s clothing. And, Joe, now that I recall it, it"s the same color as the suit worn by Hemp Danforth when he chased us. We"re on the trail at last, Joe!"
CHAPTER XX
THE DISCOVERY
Joe Duncan leaped to his chum"s side. Eagerly he looked at the bit of cloth which, caught on a thorn bush, had ripped from some man"s garment.
The cloth was not weather-beaten, which, to the boys, showed that it had not long been hanging there.
"Blake, I believe you"re right," a.s.sented his chum. "They went this way, and they must have done it for a blind, or else to get to some path that goes farther down the beach a different way," for the cloth was caught on a bush toward the landward side of the little clearing.
"We"ll follow this," said Blake.
"Of course," agreed his chum.
They pushed into the bushes. There was no semblance of a path, but this did not discourage the boys. They realized that the wreckers would want to cover up their trail, and would take a way that would not seem to lead anywhere.
"This will branch off pretty soon," was Blake"s opinion. "This is just a blind, to make us believe they have given up, and gone inland. Come on, Joe, and keep a sharp lookout for any other signs."
They found none for some time, and then they came to a little open place where the soft ground held several footprints.
"We"re getting warmer!" exclaimed Joe.
"Hush!" cautioned his chum. "They may hear us."
"Why, you don"t think they"re around here; do you?"
"There"s no telling. It"s best to be on the safe side. Keep quiet.
h.e.l.lo! here"s something else!" and Blake, moving cautiously, so as not to make any more noise than possible, picked up a bit of metal.
"What is it?" asked Joe.
"Part of their lantern," answered his chum. "It was made of black sheet iron, you remember. This piece may have fallen off when they dragged it through the bushes. We"re on the right trail, all right."
"I believe you. But I wish it would turn on to a better path. It"s no fun forcing your way through these bushes."
"It"ll turn soon now," predicted Blake. "They only took this lead long enough to discourage pursuit. They didn"t like it any better than we do."
His surmise proved correct and about five minutes later, having found other evidences of the pa.s.sage of the wreckers, they came out on an open trail.
It was a narrow path, leading along in both directions from where they came out on it, and following the coast line, but some distance inland.
There were evidences that men had pa.s.sed in both directions, and that at no distant time, for footprints turned to both the left and right, as the boys emerged from the blind trail in the brush.
"Well, what about this?" questioned Joe, as he looked in silence at the tell-tale marks. "Which way shall we go, Blake?"
"To the right!" came the answer, almost immediately.
"What makes you say that?" asked his chum. "I don"t see anything to show that they went to the right, any more than that they went to the left."
"Don"t you?" asked Blake. "Look here, and remember some of the things our cowboy guide told us when we were after the Indians. Now you see footprints going off to the left and right from this point; don"t you?"
"Sure."
"Well, do you happen to notice that on the left there are footprints coming back as well as going."
"Yes, I see that. But what does it mean?"
"And on the right side, counting from this dividing point, there are only footprints in one direction."
"That"s so, Blake. But----"