and soon the
cowboys drew off, with final shots from their revolvers, discharging
them in the air. The Indians, too, had their share in the farewell,
though they were not so demonstrative as were their companions.

"And now for the coast!" cried Blake, as they reached the train.

"And my dad," added Joe, and there was a trace of tears in his eyes,
which he did not attempt to conceal. Blake knew just how his chum felt,
and he found himself wishing that he, too, was going to find some
relative. But he knew the only one he had was his aged uncle.

Little of incident occurred on the trip to San Diego, which had been
decided on as headquarters until a suitable location, away from any
town, could be selected directly on the ocean beach. I say little of
moment, but C. C. was continually predicting that something would
happen, from a real hold-up to a train wreck.

"And if that doesn't happen, a bridge will go go down with us," he said.

But nothing of the kind occurred, and finally the boys and their friends
reached the coast, going to the boarding place they had engaged.

"And there's the old Pacific!" exclaimed Joe, as he and Blake went down
to the shore of the bay on which San Diego stands. "It isn't very rough,
however, and Mr. Ringold said he wanted tumbling waves as a background."

"It gets rough at times, though," remarked a fisherman. "Of course, if
you want to see big waves you'll have to go beyond this bay. It's pretty
well land-locked. Oh, yes, the old Pacific isn't always as peaceful as
her name."

CHAPTER VII

AT THE LIGHTHOUSE

The two boys talked for some time with the old fisherman, and then Blake
whispered to Joe:

"Why don't you ask him where the lighthouse is where your father is
supposed to be, and the best way of getting to it?"

"I will," replied his chum.

"The Rockypoint light?" repeated the fisherman, in response to Joe's
inquiry. "Why yes, I know it well. It's only a few miles from here. You
can see her flash on a clear night, but you can't make out the house
itself, even on a clear day, because she's down behind that spur of
coast. From the ocean, though, she's seen easily enough."

"And how can we get there?" asked Blake.

"Well, you can walk right down the beach, though it's a middlin' long
tramp; or you can go back to town, and hire a rig."

"We'll walk," decided Joe. "Do you happen to know of a Mr. Duncan
there?" He waited anxiously for the answer.

"No, lad, I can't