he lighthouse man. "Don't you call it wrong to set up a
false light to lure unsuspecting captains on the rocks, so you can get
your pickings? Wrong!"

"Huh! How do you know but what this light was put here as a range finder
for us fishermen?" asked the other.

"Fishermen! Why, you men never did an honest day's fishing in your
lives!" cried Abe Haskill. "Fishing! When you haven't been smuggling
you've been wrecking, or robbing other honest men's nets. You're a bunch
of scoundrels, and it's the best day's work we've done in many a year to
get you!"

"That's all right," retorted Hemp, easily. "Words don't prove anything."

"They don't; eh?" cried Tom Cardiff. "You'll see what they do. We'll
convict you by your own words!"

"Our own words?" asked Hemp Danforth, uneasily.

"Yes, overheard by these two lads, whom you chased but couldn't catch. I
guess when Blake Stewart and Joe Duncan go into court, and testify
about hearing you talk of wrecking vessels by your false lantern, the
jury'll convict you, all right!"

Hemp seemed less concerned with what Tom said than with the name Joe
Duncan. As this was uttered the wrecker looked at the two lads.

"Did I understand him to say that one of you is a Duncan?" asked Hemp,
curiously.

"I am," replied Joe.

"Are you Nate Duncan's son?"

"I hope so--yes, I'm sure I am."

"Ha! Ha!" laughed the wrecker.

"What's the joke?" inquired Tom Cardiff.

"This, and it's a good one, too. You think to convict us on the
testimony of Nate Duncan's son. Why, Nate is one of us! His son's
evidence wouldn't be any good. Besides, a son wouldn't help to convict
his father. That's a good one. Nate Duncan is one of us!"

"That's not so!" burst out Joe, jumping toward the big wrecker, as
though to strike him. "It isn't true. My father never was a wrecker."

"He wasn't; eh?" sneered Hemp. "Well, I'm not saying we are, either; but
if your father isn't a wrecker why did he run away before the officers
came for him? Answer me that--if you can!"

"I--I--" began Joe, when Blake stepped to his chum's side.

"Don't answer him," counseled Blake. "It will only make matters worse.
It will all come out right."

"I'm sure of it," said Joe. "Poor Dad, I wish he were here to defend
himself; but, as he isn't, I'll stick up for him."

"Well, if you're through talking I guess we'll move along," suggested
Tom at this point. "There are a few empty cells in the jail at San
Diego, I understand, and they'll