s a regular sailor," said Joe.

"You didn't know he was a sailor? Say, don't you know your father's
business?"

"It's been a good many years since I've seen him," spoke Joe. "In fact,
I can't remember him," and he told something of how he came to be on the
strange quest.

"Well, this is certainly odd," remarked the agent. "I've known Nate some
years, more or less, and I've often heard him speak of a son he had lost
track of. Of late he had given up hope."

"And just when I was on the verge of finding him," added Joe.

"His daughter, too," continued the agent. "He said he felt sure he'd
never locate her, though he'd spent lots of money in hunting. And he
felt pretty bad, too, over the thought that he might never see his
children again."

"And have I really a sister?" asked Joe, eagerly.

"I can't rightly say," spoke the shipping master. "You had one, but
whether she's alive now or not no one seems to know. There's one
satisfaction, though, you can find your father in time, and as soon as
he hears from you, when his ship reaches Hong Kong, he won't lose any
time taking the fastest steamer back. I know Nate Duncan well enough for
that."

"Will he, though?" thought Blake. "Will he come back when he knows of
the wrecking charge that may be made against him? Even the prospect of
seeing Joe may not overbalance that. Yet, I suppose he could send for
Joe. They couldn't make any charge against him over in China. But it's a
bad business."

Joe talked a little longer with the agent, who gave him the name of the
ship on which Mr. Duncan had sailed, and also directions how to address
the letter.

"Well, there's no use staying in 'Frisco much longer," said Joe, as
they finished their business. "We'll get what other moving pictures of
street scenes we want, and as I can't find Dad here, we'll leave. We'll
get back to San Diego, and out to the beach colony to film some more
dramas."

A return trip to their hotel, a visit to various localities for films,
then to pack their belongings--and the automatic camera did not take
them long--and they were soon journeying down the coast again. They were
welcomed warmly by the members of the theatrical colony.

As I have said, for the purpose of being unhampered in their work of
taking films, Mr. Ringold had moved his company from San Diego proper to
a small fishing settlement, directly on the beach. This place was called
Chester, after the man who owned the fishery there. He had a