"Gee, that's a bad outlook. Well, where there is life there is hope," replied Jim; "no use nosing this trail along, we have got the general direction and we want to get to the beach just as soon as we can so as to head those fellows off." The two of them then started on a brisk trot and in a short time they heard the roar of the surf on the sand. But about a quarter of a mile from the beach they came to a halt, for a high fence barred their way. "Hello, what does this mean?" inquired Jim with interest. "It means we have come on someone's private estate," remarked the engineer, "and judging from the sharpness of these iron spikes, they are not at home to ordinary folks like us." "I can just make out the house," remarked Jim, "and it looks like a big one." There was the indistinct loom of the house through the fog; it appeared to be made of brick, with white trimmings and a huge chimney in the center clad with ivy. This was a good many years ago, and no remnant of this place remains to-day, for fire and earthquake wrought the ruin of this mansion, long before the catastrophe of 1906. "Let's walk around this estate before it gets completely dark," said Jim, "which will be pretty soon now." "You don't suppose that those two misguided pirates live here, do you?" questioned the engineer. "Hardly," admitted Jim, "but they might be hiding in the yard." "It would be tough work getting over," said the engineer, "especially with what is coming from the direction of the house." Jim looked and pulled his friend down behind the parapet of stone in which the iron fence was set. "Perhaps it won't see us," said Jim in a low voice. But they were a wee bit too late to escape detection. Between the shrubbery there came at a menacing lope, a huge, yellow-white, bloodhound, with hanging dew laps, and following him a great Dane whose velvety black form held a real ferocity. They leaped high with their forefeet against the iron fence, striving frantically to reach the two men on the other side. "They are more dangerous than the mountain lion, those dogs," said Berwick. "I'm very glad to be on this side of the fence," admitted Jim. "We wouldn't stand much show without our guns." "I thought you ate them alive," laughed John Berwick, referring to the incident in the wood. "It was to keep you from being eaten up yourself," grinned Jim. "Say, Chief, let's move out of range, or these beasts will rouse the whole country." "All right, Captain," agreed Berwick, using Jim's sea title, and as they were rather at sea, it was quite appropriate. They reached a large rock that stood out on the plain away from the house, and sat down on it, until the noise of the baying had ceased. "Did you think to fetch a lunch with you on this festive occasion, James?" inquired Berwick. "Bah Jove, old chap," replied James, "we left in such haste that it slipped my mind, don't yer know."