The gasolene launch was quickly awaiting the young millionaire, and his guests, at the foot of the accommodation ladder, and soon, with Widdy at the steering wheel, Dick and the other five young men were on their way ashore. They found an easy, sandy beach on which to land, and, taking the kedge anchor of the launch well up on shore, to prevent the tide from floating off the craft, they all started inland to look for the kidnapped youth. Grit and the puppy raced on ahead, gamboling over the sands, and glad enough to be on shore again. "Which way shall we go?" asked Dick. "To the right," decided Paul. "Looks like a better place off to the left," came from Beeby. "If I might advise," remarked Widdy, "I'd make for the high ground. Then you can get a view over the island, an' see if there is a signal shown anywhere, or some sort of a place where he might live." "Good idea!" cried Dick; "we'll do it! Come on, fellows! Come on, Senor Alantrez!" Forward they went, climbing the rough, high land in the centre of the island. It was no easy task to mount to the summit, and, when they were near it, Dick, who was in the lead, called: "Quiet, everybody! I hear some one coming!" There was a sound of crackling underbrush, and of tree branches pushed to one side. "Maybe it's an animal," suggested Paul. "I brought one of your rifles, Dick." "Good! Have it in readiness, though it walks more like a person than an animal." The sounds suddenly ceased. "Maybe it's some of the kidnappers," came from Beeby. "If I get a chance I'll snapshot 'em, and we can use the pictures for evidence. I----" Beeby didn't have a chance to finish. A moment later there was a sudden cry of joy, and a figure burst through the fringe of underbrush. Right toward Senor Alantrez it sprang, and Paul, who had half-raised the rifle, lowered it, for he saw that the figure was that of a youth. "Padre! Padre!" shouted the lad, and then in rapid Spanish he greeted his father. "My son! My son!" cried Senor Alantrez, in delight. "I have really found you! The dear saints be praised! Heaven has been good to me!" and father and son were clasped in each other's arms, while Dick and his chums felt the moisture come into their eyes, and they found something exceedingly interesting to look at in the other direction. The two Cubans embraced warmly, held each other off at arms' length, as if to make sure there was no mistake, and then clasped each other close again, all the while murmuring endearing terms in their own tongue. "But I forget myself!" exclaimed the elder Cuban at length. "Pedro, here is our benefactor--yours and mine--but for him, you would never have been found. Kiss his hand!" "No, you don't!" cried Dick, who was not used to such things. "I don't want to be thanked. I've been thanked enough. If I hadn't come here for you some one else would. But I'm glad you're all right, Pedro Alantrez. Did those scoundrels treat you badly?"