e keeper, and promising to come and see him again. As
they went out Mr. Stanton gave Blake a little sign, warning him not to
disclose the secret.

"Well, failure number one," said Joe, as they took a carriage back to
San Diego, it being rather late.

"Yes, but we'll win out yet!" declared Blake, with a confidence he did
not feel. "We'll find your father and your sister, too."

"I'll have more relations than you, Blake, if I keep on, and can find
them," said Joe, after a bit.

"That's right. Well, I wish you luck," and Blake wondered if Joe would
be glad he had found his father, after all. "Wrecking is a black
business," mused the lad. "But, like Mr. Stanton, I'm not going to think
Joe's father guilty until I have to. I wonder, though, if the story is
known about San Diego? If it is I'll have trouble keeping it from Joe."

But Joe's chum found he had little to fear on this score, for, on
getting back to the quarters of the theatrical troupe, the boys were
told that the next day they would all take up their residence in a small
seacoast settlement, out on the main ocean beach, away from the
land-locked bay and where bigger waves could be pictured.

"And there we'll enact the first of the sea dramas," said Mr. Ringold.

"And all get drowned," murmured C. C., in his gloomiest tone.

"I'll wash your face with snow--the first time it snows in this summer
land--if you don't be more cheerful," threatened Miss Shay.

"Well, something will happen, I'm sure," declared C. C. "When do we
move?"

"To-morrow," said Mr. Ringold, while Blake and Joe told Mr. Hadley of
their poor success in finding Mr. Duncan. The photographer, as did the
other members of the company, sympathized with the lad. Mr. Ringold said
that as soon as they got settled the boys could go to San Francisco to
look up the shipping agent.

The transfer to the small seacoast settlement was a matter of some work,
but in a week all was arranged, and the members of the company were
settled in a large, comfortable house, close to the beach.

"And now for some rehearsals," said Mr. Ringold, one morning. "One of
the scenes calls for a shipwrecked man coming ashore in a small boat.
Now, C. C., I guess you'll have to be the man this time, as I need the
others for shore parts. Get the cameras ready."

"I--I'm to be shipwrecked; am I?" inquired Mr. Piper. "Do I have to fall
overboard?"

"Not unless you want to," said Mr. Ringold, consulting the manuscript of
the