“I think I know what we ought to do now,” Ben interrupted. “We ought to go down to the end of the canyon and see if there are any steamers gathering about that beacon light. We wouldn’t exactly like to have a mob of cutthroats rushing in here with another cargo of Chinks.” “That’s a fact!” Carl agreed. “We ought to be finding out what that beacon means!” The boys walked down to the end of the canyon and looked almost straight below into the tumbling surf of the Pacific ocean. The second beacon was on a headland a little more than a quarter of a mile to the south. Its flames leaped high in the comparatively still air, and a wide area of mountain and sea was disclosed. Standing out a short distance, pitching heavily in the swell of the ocean, lay two coast steamers of fair size. “There they are!” Carl exclaimed. “Just watch, and you’ll see boats loaded with Chinks making their way to some cove in the coast not far distant.” “Well, what are we going to do?” asked Ben. “We just can’t stay here!” shouted Carl. “Of course not!” Jimmie added. “What about it, Kit?” Ben asked, turning to the boy with a laugh. “I don’t care where you take me, so long as there’s something to eat there!” the lad answered. After a long consultation, it was decided to take the machines out of the canyon that night. The boys knew that in time the unlawful acts of the smugglers would bring them to punishment. Their arrest might take place within one day, or within one year, but, whenever it was, the lads decided that they could not afford to be in any way implicated by knowledge of the smuggling, or by being in a position to be suspected of knowing more than they really did. After a hastily-eaten supper, the boys ran the _Bertha_ around so as to face the sea and stowed on board of her the packages of provisions which had been removed and opened. This done, Ben ran both machines back to the crag and paced the distance to the abrupt drop into the sea. “How far is it?” asked Jimmie. “Something less than a hundred paces!” was the reply. “The machines will rise in that distance, all right!” Carl cut in. “If they do, it’s all right,” Ben answered, “and if they don’t, we’ll all be dumped into the Pacific ocean.” “Well,” chuckled Jimmie, “we came clear across the continent to get to the Pacific ocean, didn’t we?” “Couldn’t we swim out?” asked Kit innocently. “Probably,” grinned Carl, “with a surf washing twenty feet up on the rocks! Why,” he continued, “there wouldn’t be enough of us left in a minute to wad a gun.” “The _Louise_ will make it all right!” Jimmie insisted. “I’ve pulled her into the air in less than two hundred feet!” “The _Bertha_ can make anything the _Louise_ can,” Ben answered rather impatiently. “I’ll go first with Kit and see what the prospects are,” he continued. “If I’m not killed, you can follow.” Kit shivered as he stepped into the seat. “I wish right now,” he grumbled, “that I was asleep in Robinson’s barn.”