CHAPTER XI
THE LONELY LAD
The Cliff House, and the Seal Rocks, not far from that hotel, form a sight that thousands of visitors to San Francisco visit annually. In addition to a fine beach, the beauty of which is added to by long periods of exceptionally fine weather, there are the seals, and the historic associations about the place. Animal life always has an attraction, and when it is free, wild and unhampered, as it is at Seal Rocks, it is doubly interesting.
So Frank and Pep thought as they strolled along the beach, on which were many pleasure seekers and bathers.
"Say, this is sure some place," observed Frank. "It beats Coney Island."
"It certainly does," agreed Pep. "Say, a motion picture show would be fine here."
"I don't believe it would pay," returned Frank, with a laugh. "There are too many attractions outside—folks would not come inside."
"And look at the seals!" exclaimed Pep, pointing to the sleek, barking animals as they climbed out on the rocks to sun themselves, now and then slipping into the water with wonderful grace, to swim off like patches of brown light.
Cliff House was set on a rocky promontory, against the foot of which the Pacific beats with restless energy. A little way beyond the hotel, to the west, are the group of rocks, large and small, to which the seals have given their name. If you have ever been fortunate enough to see Cliff House, you will probably remember the sorrow and horror that swept over the whole country when it was rumored that it was destroyed, and had fallen into the sea, during the great San Francisco earthquake. But such, fortunately, was not the case.
"Feel like going in for a swim?" asked Pep of his chum.
"Maybe, a little later," agreed Frank. "But first we'd better do what we have to do; that is go up to the hotel and see how the land lies. You know we're supposed to put up there for a few days, until we see how Royston pans out."
"All right—then the bath can wait," agreed Pep. "But that water sure does look good."
It was indeed a pleasant scene on which the boys gazed. All about them everyone seemed bent only on pleasure. They strolled up the beach, and nearer to the rocks. It was low tide and the group of great stones was exposed for a large part of their surface. The seals could be seen all over them.
"That would make a fine moving picture," said Frank.
"Yes, and if we could only get space at the fair it might pay us to have one made," retorted his chum.
"It's worth making a note of," went on Frank, and so that he might not forget it he jotted down the item in the memorandum book he always carried.
It was the plan of the two chums to put up at the Cliff House for a day or so, since their observations of Royston, should he come there as he intended, would take some little time to complete. They had ready a plausible story if he should ask their reason for stopping at that well-known resort.
A little later Frank and Pep sat in the double room they had engaged, and their baggage had been sent for. It was really putting them out quite a little to transfer from their first stopping place to this one, for they had to bring their luggage with them, not only to avoid the necessity of paying in advance, but to make it appear that they were genuine guests. But, as Frank said, they were willing to do more than this to oblige Mr. Bullard.
"Well, what's next?" asked Pep, as he surveyed his chum.
"Make some inquiries, I think," was the answer. "It won't do to be too bold about it, though, but we want to get on the trail of Royston as soon as possible. If we begin to nose about too openly, asking the clerk if Royston is here, or looking at the register, we'll be talked about. We've just got to keep our eyes open."
"That's right," agreed Pep. "Well, let's start."
In their guise as transient guests of the hotel they had donned other suits of clothes than those in which they had arrived, and strolled out into the main corridor. They found many men and women there, but, though they looked, they got no sight of Royston.
"I'd just like a glimpse at the register," said Pep in a low voice to Frank, as he glanced toward the hotel clerk's desk.
"It wouldn't be safe," argued his chum.
There was enough going on in and about the hotel so that Frank and Pep did not feel lonesome. Many tourists and guests had been attracted to California by the prospective opening of the big fair, and the sight of them, strolling about, bent on business, pleasure or amusement, made it interesting for Frank and his chum.
But the two young men had other matters to occupy their minds than merely looking on. The role of spectator was not suited to them. They were used to doing things and they fretted when they were not actively engaged. But, in the present instance all they could do was to await the appearance of Royston. All depended on him.
It was not until the second day of their stay that anything happened. Meanwhile Frank and Pep had done their best to pretend they were enjoying themselves. They saw all the sights worth seeing about the hotel, they went often to Seal Rocks, they delighted in the bathing and strolled along the beautiful beach.
They also went out to Lincoln Park, and spent some time at Fort Miley, on the United States Military Reservation. But all the while they were fretting for action.
Then, one afternoon, as Pep came back from a bath, Frank not having gone with him, the impulsive lad fairly ran up to his chum, seated on the porch, and exclaimed:
"He's here!"
"Who?" asked Frank.
"Royston!"
"Hush! Not so loud!" cautioned Frank, looking about. "We're not supposed to be anxious to see him, remember. If we encounter him we are to pass it off as though we always intended to come here."
"All right," returned Pep.
"Where did you see him?" asked Frank, looking about to make sure the subject of their talk was not within sight or hearing.
"Down on the beach. He was walking along, talking to a man who was dressed as if he had plenty of money, though of course that's no sure sign. Look at Hank Strapp. He——"
"Never mind Mr. Strapp," said Frank, with a smile. "Did Royston see you?"
"I think not. I was just coming from the water, and you know you can't always recognize your best friend when he's in a bathing suit."
"That's right, and you didn't talk much with Royston, anyhow; did you?"
"Not as much as you. But he's here, all right."
"Then we'll get busy. I must send word to Mr. Bullard."
This Frank did. But to make sure the government agent's secret would not leak out over the telephone wire, Frank called him by an assumed name, and the message transmitted was seemingly an unimportant one. But it was in "code," and Mr. Bullard understood what was meant.
"Good!" he exclaimed, at the other end of the wire. "Now you know what to do."
"Yes, indeed," Frank assured him.
So when, a little later, Royston met the two chums in the hotel, though he was surprised to see them they managed to act naturally on catching sight of him, which they might perhaps not have been able to do had they not known that he was there, and been prepared.
"Well, boys, what are you doing here?" the promoter wanted to know. "I thought you were going to be at the fair grounds."
"We'll be there later," said Frank, with a confidence he did not altogether feel. He only hoped he and his chums would be able to get a concession in the Zone.
"Well, I'm glad to see you, anyhow!" exclaimed Royston. "Come and have a smoke—Oh, I forgot, you don't indulge in the weed. Well, it may be a bad habit, but I'm too old to change now," and he pulled out a black cigar.
Whatever his object was, clearly it did not include, at this time at least, antagonizing Frank and his chum. Royston's former grouchy temper, and his meanness, seemed to have disappeared. He was hardly the same man who had collided with Frank in the bank, and who had so vented his anger on the young man.
"I have a little business to attend to," went on Royston, "and after that I'd like to entertain you boys for a while. I've taken quite a notion to you. And do you know," he went on, in what was intended, doubtless, for a confidential whisper, "these native sons of California are rather clannish. Now, I'm from little old New York, and you boys are the same. We ought to stick together."
"Yes?" spoke Frank, rather non-committally. Royston, he thought, would "stick together" as long as it suited his purposes and interests, and after that he would "flock by himself." But it was the aim of Frank and Pep to get as much information as possible from the suspected man, and to do that they must pretend to be friendly, however much they disliked the role.
Royston stood talking with them for a little while, and then, espying an acquaintance across the lobby, he left the chums, promising to see them later.
"Watch him," urged Frank to Pep in a whisper. "See who that man is he goes to, and what becomes of them. I'll have another talk with Mr. Bullard on the wire."
When Frank again sought his chum he found Pep seated on the balcony of the hotel, calmly reading a magazine.
"I thought you were after—him," said Frank, significantly, not mentioning any names.
"He's in bathing," Pep answered. "He and that fellow he walked out with have gone in for a dip. I can easily pick them up again."
"Well, then, let's go down to the beach ourselves," suggested Frank. "We might pick up some information."
A little later they had managed to reach a point where they could see Royston and his friend in the water. They waited about for some time, hoping the two might come out on the sands, and talk in such a situation that part of the conversation could be overheard.
But, as though Royston suspected his talk might be listened to, when he did come out of the surf, he and his friend walked apart, and sat under an umbrella, so that it would have been risky, if not impossible, for Frank or Pep to have approached within hearing distance.
Defeated thus in their first object, the youths strolled down the beach again. They were near the most shoreward of the Seal Rocks, which the low tide had left greatly exposed, when Frank drew Pep's attention to the figure of a boy seated out on a boulder, with his back to the beach.
"Why, he's got his clothes on!" exclaimed Pep, in surprise.
"Yes," agreed Frank. "But that's nothing."
"Nothing!" exclaimed Pep. "I should say it was! He went out there when the tide was low, and he could walk without getting wet. But now the tide is in, and he can't get ashore dry-shod. What's the matter with him?"
"That didn't strike me so much as the fact of the loneliness of the boy," said Frank. "Doesn't he seem rather sad, to you?"
"Well, as far as I can judge by the way he sits there, all humped over, and forlorn, he seems to have lost his last friend on earth," agreed Pep. "Is that what you mean?"
"That's it. He doesn't seem to care whether school keeps or not."
For a few minutes Frank and Pep stood looking at the lonely lad on the rock. Then Pep said:
"Frank, I have an idea."
"Get it patented; they're scarce," laughed his chum.
"It's about that boy," went on Pep, and Frank seemed rather surprised.