"Oh, how I wish Hal and Eph were here!" muttered Captain Jack, in keen disappointment. "I need help on this!" Within two minutes Millard had struck into a well-beaten path that led northward over succeeding ridges of laud. In a way, it was easier following here, for there were occasional trees and clumps of bushes behind which the young shadow could drop at need. Two minutes in this path, and Jack Benson's heart gave another quick leap. Some one else was coming stealthily behind him. Jack dodged around a clump of bushes and waited. "Hal!" breathed Jack, almost wild with joy, as the two chums clasped hands fervently for one brief instant. Then: "See here, Hal, I've got to dart forward again, or Millard will be out of sight. But I'll tell you what--while I trail Millard, you concern yourself only with following me." "Good enough," whispered Hastings, nodding. "Now, you start again!" For just an instant Millard had disappeared. However, by moving forward quickly, Benson was soon able to make out the quarry through the darkness. For some five minutes more the chase continued. Then, his long body rather sharply defined against the sky, Millard began the ascent of a low hill that ended in a cliff overlooking the broad ocean. As Millard's course forward could end only in the sea, Jack now crouched low, stealing along a parallel course behind a low ridge of rock. Then Millard suddenly stepped into a clump of tall bushes. Though his game was now out of sight, Jack did not lose his nerve, for he could hear the fellow. Spink! spank! clank! The noise came from a shovel, vigorously used. "Not a hard one to guess," throbbed Captain Jack Benson, exultantly. "He has brought his maps and his stolen records with him, and is burying them in this lonely spot until some other time when he'll feel safe about coming back for them. Talk about luck! Why, Hal and I can pounce on this fellow, when he comes out over yonder, and, after we get him, we can next dig up whatever it is that this foreign agent thinks is worth burying!" Then, with a shade of curiosity, Benson added to himself: "I don't know, yet, how it happened that Hal was on my trail. There wasn't time for him to tell me." Clank! clank! But after a while the noise of the shovel ceased for a while. Captain Jack craned his neck eagerly, trying to pierce the darkness of the night. He could make out nothing, though he heard some one still moving inside the clump of bushes. Then again the noise of the shovel on the dirt was heard. "He's filling in, now, beyond a doubt," thought Captain Jack. "He is burying--what? The maps and records? Hiding them here that he may dig them up at some later date?" Benson chuckled noiselessly. "If that's Millard's game I reckon some one else will do some digging over yonder before he pays this place a second visit!" Ah, the noise had stopped, at last. Now, Millard came out of the thicket.