Murphy and the captured Chinese were bound and put aboard the boat. But first Robbins was apprised. “Black George” had not appeared yet. No time was wasted detaching the aerial. It was abandoned. Then one of the sailors, who had been shot in the fleshy part of the right leg and thus could not maintain the rapid pace of the party, was put at the oars with instructions to follow down stream until he reached the landing.

With that the others set out at a trot. All were young and active, even Inspector Burton being still in his thirties and in excellent physical condition. They were unencumbered with baggage of any sort.

Ensign Warwick in the lead set a killing pace. Jack, Bob and Frank, however, thanks to their training in long-distance running at Harrington Hall, were enabled to keep up without difficulty. Inspector Burton surprised them all by sticking close.

“I’ve always been a bit of a runner,” he explained during one three-minute halt for the recovery of breath.

So hard did Ensign Warwick push forward that in half an hour they neared the mouth of the canyon where it broadened out into the little landlocked harbor. A halt was called. Not a shot had been heard yet.

“Those Chinese we routed,” whispered Ensign Warwick, “would give the alarm that we are behind them if they caught up with ‘Black George.’”

“Perhaps they took to the hills,” suggested Jack. Inspector Burton nodded.

“It might easily be that they had a stomachful of fighting,” he said. “They might have decided to save their own skins and let ‘Black George’ shift for himself.”

“But if they have given warning, we might be ambushed,” said Frank. “A little way ahead there, at the mouth of the canyon, would be a fine place for an ambuscade.”

A distant sound of firing, followed by a pandemonium of high-pitched yells, shattered the silence.

“They’re attacking,” cried Ensign Warwick. “Come on. Ambush or not, we must go forward. Every man for himself and watch the sides of the canyon. On the run now, fellows. Let’s go.”

Turning he plunged ahead. Behind him came Inspector Burton and the three chums. Close on their heels were the fifteen or eighteen young sailors.

There was no ambush after all, and they later learned the Chinese they had routed at the stockade had fled to the hills without seeking to warn “Black George” of the Nemesis on his heels.

Dashing out of the canyon, around the sharp turn at its mouth, they came upon a wild scene. The Chinese coolies in the warehouse were shrieking in terror, and the sounds of their yells and of the blows they rained wildly upon the sides of the building came clear to their ears. They could see three crouching figures before the door, rifles presented, guarding against any attempt of the coolies to bolt.

The searchlight from the Sub Chaser played over the scene a moment longer as they watched, bringing it out in sharp relief. Then the light was swung away and brought to bear upon the trawler. “Black George” appeared on the deck, firing his revolver futilely at the Sub Chaser.

Ensign Warwick running rapidly reached the pier, with the boys close at his heels. He dashed out to the Sub Chaser and leaped aboard.

“Beggars must have gotten into the warehouse from the roof,” Robbins explained rapidly to his superior officer. “Stirred the coolies up to make a break for it, thinking to divert us. Would have done so, too, if I hadn’t had your warning. But we kept the coolies in bounds. Meantime, the rest of their outfit must have swam out to the trawler. Planned to set her adrift, I guess. Tide’s running out. Heard something that made me suspicious and put the light on them, as you see. And here you are.”

“Good enough,” approved Ensign Warwick.

Advancing to the other side of his little craft he called to “Black George” to surrender.

“If you try to escape,” he called, “I’ll train a machine gun on you. Better surrender and avoid bloodshed.”

With a curse of rage, “Black George” raised his revolver and fired. Ensign Warwick leaped aside, as the bullet struck the deck at his feet. A shot rang out from the Sub Chaser. The revolver spun from “Black George’s” grasp, and he jumped up and down grasping the stunned wrist in his other hand.

“Who did that?” queried the naval officer.

“I did, sir,” said Jack. “I merely shot his weapon away to disarm him.”

“Pretty shot,” approved Ensign Warwick, while several of the sailors also murmured approval.

“Folwell, a machine gun is trained on your deck and you cannot escape,” the naval officer continued. “Our men are waiting ashore, and you cannot escape by swimming. Call your men on deck. A boarding party is coming aboard.”

“Black George” realized the futility of further resistance, and when Ensign Warwick with a half-dozen heavily armed men gained the deck of the trawler he had Engineer MacFinney and eighteen Chinese on deck. They were searched, and then the Chinese were put in the forecastle under guard and the two white men were taken aboard the Sub Chaser.

At sight of the three chums, “Black George” cursed bitterly.

“You’re the cause of all my troubles,” he said. “I should have left you to the tender mercies of Wong Ho’s men back in Chinatown.”

“If he only knew how much you three lads have contributed to his downfall,” commented Inspector Burton, as “Black George” was led away, “he would feel even worse.”

Ensign Warwick approached.

“Look here,” he said, kindly, “you fellows have had a pretty strenuous time of it. It’s a mild night, and I’m going to keep Folwell aboard here, bed him down in a hammock, where I can watch him. Do you fellows object to turning in on the trawler?”

“Not at all,” said Jack. “We slept there before, you know.”

“Yes, I know. That’s why I proposed it now. Well, if you want to turn in now, I’ve got the boat ready to lift you over.”

Amid a hail of “good-nights” the three chums and Inspector Burton were rowed to the trawler. Once aboard, they lost no time in straightening the bunks and tumbling in.

“Way past midnight now,” said Bob, examining his watch. “We’ve got only a few hours. I, for one, am not going to waste them in undressing.”

And, merely kicking off his shoes, he tumbled over on his berth and almost immediately fell asleep. The others followed suit.