THEY came on deck.

It wanted little more than two hours to sunset and the eastern sky had taken that look of distance which only comes when the sun is low in the west.

Hank, who was the first on deck, called to the others and pointed over the sea. Something white was shearing through the water over there, something that showed up at once through the glass as a high power motor launch.

“Boys,” cried Hank, “it’s the police, it’s the cops sure as certain, and we’re done out of it.”

Candon took the glass.

“Don’t look like a police boat to me,” said he, “and I only see two fellows on her. Of course, there may be a dozen hid away. Looks more like to me that it’s a contrabander done up as a pleasure launch. We can’t see anything from here. Let’s take the boat and push out so that we can get a sight of the next bay.”

“They’ll spot us,” said Hank.

“They’ll spot the Wear Jack anyhow,” said Candon. “The boat doesn’t matter, they’ll think we’re fishing.”

The boat was still alongside. Led by Candon, they got in and pushed off.

Half a mile out the next bay had opened enough to show them the junk at anchor and the tents on the beach. The launch, the blue water shearing from her forefoot, was approaching the junk.

Hank, watching through the glass, reported: “They’re clawing on. There’s only one Chink on the junk, he’s handing over parcels and taking things aboard. You’re right, B. C., it’s no police affair; it’s contraband sure enough. Bend over the gunnel, you two, and pretend to be fishing. Now the launch is putting off back to the coast. Well, that settles it.”

“Where are they out from?” said Hank.

“Oh, Santa Barbara,” said Candon, “sure thing.”

They watched the launch making back to the coast, then they took to the oars and put back for the schooner.

“Well,” said George, who was at the yoke lines, “it gets me how these sorts of things are let pass by the law.”

“Oh, that’s nothing,” said Hank, with a laugh. “Why, girls are disappearing every week in ’Frisco, they get inveigled into Chinatown and that’s all. They get taken off to Canton and sold as slaves to mandarins or worse.”

“But how do the Chinks manage to get them out of America?” asked George.

“You’ve seen it,” said Candon. “You said there were two white men with those Chinese—that’s how. The traffic wouldn’t stand a minute without the help of whites. Money, that’s what’s the mischief, money and the damned capitalistic system that makes money king. Lord, I want to get at those chaps, I’m sufferin’ to get at those chaps.” He stopped rowing. Hank, equally excited, also rested on his oar till George cut in and they resumed.