Jack looked up, staring around wildly, as if for help. But the others had deserted him. And then for the first time he saw the other occupants of the big front room. In the far corner they lay—the two aviators who had accompanied the Hamptons and Captain Murray into the house, and Captain Cornell. All three were bound. Jack half rose to his feet in astonishment. Captain Cornell had been found bound and gagged when they first had gained entrance to the house. But how came these others so? When he and Captain Murray had descended to the cellar in search of the tunnel entrance, they had left his father on the lower floor, and the two aviators upstairs cutting Captain Cornell’s bonds. He passed a hand across his eyes.
Well, that mystery must be left to solution by the men loosing the bonds of the trio. His part was to get aid for his father. He called, and Bob and Frank broke away from the little group on the opposite side of the room and hurried to him. An ordinary emergency might have found Jack the coolest of the three. But in a case such as this, involving his father, positions were reversed. The poor fellow was half frantic. And Bob and Frank, with an exchange of understanding glances, elbowed him aside and went to their knees beside Mr. Hampton.
The latter again opened his eyes, and as his glance fell on them he spoke in a stronger voice.
“The bullet took me in the shoulder, boys,” he said. “Don’t think it smashed the bone, although it was a close shave. Wasn’t that knocked me out, but when I fell I struck the wall with my head. Cut off my coat, so you can see what to do. Then bind my shoulder up with something, and I’ll manage to survive, I reckon.”
His voice gained in strength as he proceeded, and on concluding he struggled to sit up. Jack with a gulp of relief got on his other side and thrust an arm beneath him. Bob, opposite, did likewise; and Mr. Hampton was raised to a sitting position against the wall.
“Stripping for action, Frank?” asked Mr. Hampton with an attempt to smile that ended in a grimace of pain. “No use. It’s all over. They, got away out of the window.”
Frank had torn off his light-weight summer coat and now ruthlessly stripping off his white linen shirt with a great popping of buttons ripped it in half from collar to neckband and began tearing the halves thus created into quarters.
“Making bandages,” he said. “Peel off his coat, fellows. Don’t stand there like ninnies.”
Jack and Bob hastened to comply, easing the wounded shoulder as much as possible, and, having removed the coat, stripped off the shirt sleeve, revealing a hole through the shoulder muscles, from which the blood was slowly pumping.
“Hurry, now, one of you, get some water,” commanded Frank. “Must be water somewhere. Jack, you’ve been through here. Maybe, there’s a bathroom. If not, there must be water in the kitchen. If you can’t find anything to put it in, take this cloth and wet it well.” And thrusting one of the long strips into Jack’s hands he sent him scurrying away with a peremptory gesture.
With another of the linen strips, Frank wiped the blood away from the wound in Mr. Hampton’s shoulder, discovering that the bullet had entered from the rear, where there was only a bluish mark that already had stopped bleeding, and had come out in front. “No sir, didn’t smash the bone,” he said, thankfully, as with deft fingers he felt of the wounded man’s shoulder. “You were in luck, Mr. Hampton.”
“I was that,” the other answered. “Came on them just as they were leaving. But here’s Captain Murray, wanting to hear my story,” he added glancing up at the aviator, who, striding across the room, was now bending anxiously above him. “I don’t know all that happened, Captain,” he said. “But between our friends over there and myself, I guess we can piece the yarn together.”
After that it did not take long for the truth to come out. And Captain Murray’s impatience to be gone rather than risk staying where the police of Nueva Laredo were liable to come upon them, expedited matters. What had happened was that Ramirez and three others had fled to the roof, by way of a trap door so cleverly concealed as to have escaped being seen and noted by the invading Americans.
Whither they had fled was unknown, however, by Captain Cornell. Bound, gagged, flung into a corner of the big second-floor front room, he had known nothing of his captors’ movements.
“And so when Jack and I left the rest of you to explore the tunnel, Ramirez and his gang came down from the roof and jumped you?” questioned Captain Murray.
Mr. Hampton nodded. His wound was causing him pain, yet not enough to prevent him from acting as spokesman.
“I left you fellows in the cellar, and then started back upstairs. When I reached the kitchen, I was in the act of closing the door when—”
“That’s right,” interrupted Captain Murray. “You did go down the cellar and see us off. I was thinking Jack and I had gone alone and had left that cellar door standing open. You must have closed it, and locked it. Did you? Or did the Mexicans?”
“I confess I don’t know,” admitted Mr. Hampton. “But I imagine that in my excitement I must have locked the door. I’m accustomed to locking doors, anyway. It’s a habit, and I lock a door without giving the matter any thought. But the Mexicans couldn’t have done it. They didn’t come downstairs.”
“Hm! You speak of being excited. What happened?”
“Why, just as I was closing the door to the cellar I heard a dull thud coming from the floor above. Then there was a muffled shuffling of feet, as if of men wrestling.”
Quickly Mr. Hampton continued. His first instinctive feeling, after hearing those strange noises from the rooms above, was to shout to his companions and ask them what was wrong? But he resisted the impulse. He feared that in some way the enemy had returned; and, if they did not already know of his presence, he had no intention of warning them. Taking off his shoes, he moved swiftly yet soundlessly up the stairs and along the corridor toward the front room. All the time he could hear sounds as of men grunting and straining, but no shouts, no exclamations.
And when he saw into the front room, the explanation was made plain. The three aviators, including Captain Cornell and his rescuers, evidently had been taken at a disadvantage. In fact, they here confirmed Mr. Hampton’s assumption that Ramirez and his assistants had stolen upon them while Captain Cornell was being freed from his bonds.
With revolvers leveled at them and under command not to make an outcry, there was nothing the Americans could do except to comply with the request to put up their hands. This they did.
“And what I heard,” said Mr. Hampton, “was the grunting and tugging of the Mexicans as they busied themselves at the task of roping and gagging our friends.
“Then I had a piece of hard luck,” he added, with a rueful smile. “I decided to take the Mexicans by surprise, as obviously they had taken my friends. If I could get the drop on them, I might force them into a corner and hold them until you returned. And I think I would have accomplished it, too. They had their backs turned and didn’t see me. But Captain Cornell was looking my way and—”
“And I gave you away,” interrupted the flyer, bitterly. “I didn’t mean, too,” he mourned. “But something in my eyes warned Ramirez, who was looking at me.”
“He whirled quick as a flash,” added Mr. Hampton. “And he shot toward the doorway as he turned. I jumped aside, but he caught me in the shoulder.”
“Yes, and I’ll say this,” declared Captain Cornell, admiringly, “you were game to the core. Why,” he explained, turning to his friend and rescuer, Captain Murray, “that bullet in the shoulder, at that close range, was enough to knock another man down. But Mr. Hampton leaped behind the door jam, and the next second his shots began streaming into the room. Say, you should have seen those rascals jump for the windows.”
“Trouble was I had to shoot with my left hand,” Mr. Hampton explained, “and I was feeling weak, besides.”
“Out they all went, one after another,” added Captain Cornell. “It isn’t a long drop from these second-floor windows to the ground, and they took the shortest route. I’m sorry Ramirez got away. But I’m glad Mr. Hampton came when he did, for I had the feeling that Ramirez contemplated dealing out an unlovely fate to us.”
“And the rest you know,” added Mr. Hampton. “When the Mexicans cleared out I tried to get to the window to take another shot at them, but managed to get just about that far when faintness overcame me. That’s when you called, Jack,” he added, turning toward his son.
A quick council was held. It was decided that the best thing for all concerned was to get back to American soil, as soon as possible. It was not likely that Ramirez would return. But he might notify the Mexican police that a party of Americans had broken into the house; and then complications unpleasant to contemplate would arise, if the police found them in possession.
There were many things still unexplained, still a mystery. Where was Don Ferdinand? What was the particular brand of deviltry actuating Ramirez? Why had Captain Cornell been taken prisoner? But these questions would have to wait for explanation. What was of moment was that Captain Cornell had been rescued at a cost of no wounds except Mr. Hampton’s, and it not serious. And the thing to do was to get away and regain the protection of American soil. “All right,” said Mr. Hampton, when this had been agreed on. “Jack, you’ve got long legs. Run around and get our taxi and bring it here.”
Jack started away obediently, but was halted by a dismayed cry from Bob: “My flivver. My stolen flivver.”
“Leave it where it is,” said Mr. Hampton, quickly. “I noticed it bore an American license. When we get back to Laredo, I’ll find out the owner, and buy him a new car. If you undertake to run it back across the Border, you’ll be halted. And then a lot of useless explanations will have to be made. And dangerous ones, too. As for the owner,” he added, with a smile, “I’m sure he’ll not object to getting a new car for his old one.”
“I’ll say not,” said Bob, fervently, thinking of the jouncing he had received. It was a sentiment in which Captain Cornell heartily joined.
Bob left with Jack, in order to thank young Juan Salazar, who had been of such great help, and to bind him to secrecy. During their absence a hurried search was made of the house. There was little furniture, only a great number of pallets scattered through all the rooms, both upstairs and down. There were no cabinets in which to look for papers, which might offer some clew to the mystery of what was Ramirez’s occupation. And over all there hung a perceptible odor at which the searchers sniffed now and again, puzzled. It was elusive yet pungent, and its origin could not be traced. But finally Captain Murray declared with a shout that he “had it.”
The others ran up to find him standing in the middle of the floor of an upstairs room, a number of dirty pallets with their filthy blankets about his feet.
“I think I know what Ramirez is up to now,” he declared, in answer to inquiries. “Sniff, you fellows. Can’t you tell what’s in the air? It’s the reek of Orientals. Ramirez is smuggling again. But this time he’s smuggling bigger game than usual.”
“What do you mean? Opium?” asked young Harincourt.
“Opium? No.” Captain Cornell was scornful.
“Well, but you said this smell is Oriental. And I notice it, too, now that you call attention to it.”
“It’s Oriental, all right. But, look around you. See all these pallets. Fellows, this is a receiving station for human contraband. Either Chinamen or Japanese are bedded here until Ramirez can deliver them across the Border in defiance of our immigration laws. By George,” he added, drawing a long breath, “that’s it. I had a suspicion of it earlier. The racket we’ve been through rather scattered my wits. But now that I use the old head and put two and two together, I get the answer all right.”
The other nodded. Only Mr. Hampton seemed uncertain.
“I don’t know, Captain,” he said. “That leaves so much to be explained. Why should Ramirez have drawn Don Ferdinand’s workers from the mine? How did he happen to lure away my cook, Ramon? Don Ferdinand suspected Ramirez of working up a revolutionary movement, you know. That’s why he followed Ramirez here clear from his distant estate.”
“That’s all true enough,” said Captain Cornell. “But I believe when your friend Don Ferdinand turns up, you’ll find out that I’m right. However, the cars are outside. Let’s get back to Laredo as quickly as the law will allow us. The bull fight will soon be over, and if we can get across the Bridge before the crowd hits it, we’ll be better off.”
“I suppose there’s nothing else to do now,” said Mr. Hampton, reluctantly joining the procession descending the stairs. “But I’m worried about Don Ferdinand. I didn’t think so much of his failure to keep his appointment with us at the Hamilton Hotel. But when you discover that Ramirez had Don Ferdinand’s car, that puts a different complexion on the matter. He must be in captivity somewhere.”
“Say, Mr. Hampton,” said Frank, who was just ahead of him, and who halted abruptly, “what fools we are. Has anybody thought to look on the roof?”
Mr. Hampton and Captain Cornell looked blank. Then sheepish smiles of comprehension dawned. Each shook his head.
“Well,” said Frank, turning and pressing past Mr. Hampton, up the stairs. “This is the only two-story building in the neighborhood, and that means no other building overlooks the roof. It’s just barely possible that we may find something of interest up there. I’m going to see.”
“And I’ll go with you,” said Captain Cornell. “Mr. Hampton, will you please explain to the others who I see have gone on. Tell them we’ll rejoin you shortly.”
“Maybe there are some men hiding up there,” Mr. Hampton said anxiously. “Be careful.”
“Oh, we’ll be careful, all right,” said Captain Murray. “They won’t take us off guard a second time.”
“Well, I don’t like it,” said Mr. Hampton. “If there were only some way of getting a look at that roof without risk—”
But the others had re-ascended the stairs and were out of earshot.
The trap door was on a slide, not hinged. This permitted of its being pushed back in grooves that proved to be well-oiled and noiseless. Frank who stood on a stool so high that he was forced to bow his head in order not to strike it against the low roof was about to straighten up and look out, when Captain Cornell thrust him aside. The next moment the doughty flyer, placing his hands on the edge of the opening, pulled himself up to the room. Frank was quick to follow.
“Hey, Captain, that was mean,” he declared.
“Didn’t want you poking into trouble,” explained the other. “Feel that I owe it to Mr. Hampton. But our trouble’s for nothing,” he added, looking about, “unless—”
He ceased abruptly and leaped forward, Frank at his heels. Both had seen that shapeless bundle, looking like an old roll of carpet, begin to quiver. The roof was flat, a low parapet rimming it. In one corner lay the bundle, and the westering sun in their eyes had so dazzled them at first that they had not seen it. But now—
They pulled up together beside the strange object, and Captain Cornell stirred it with a foot. “Come out,” he commanded in Spanish, “and have a care. I am armed.”
The faded carpet covering what they now could see was a man out-stretched his full length, quivered. But no man emerged.
“I’ll cover him, Frank,” said Captain Cornell. “Do you take off the carpet.”
Frank seized an end of the carpet and tugged. But the carpet did not come away. Instead, the object beneath began to roll toward him. A man was rolled up inside. Once, twice, he turned over. Then the end of the carpet was reached, and the man lay exposed.
“By the ring-tailed caterpillar,” cried Frank, using his wildest expletive. “It’s Don Ferdinand.” And he flung himself on his knees, and began fumbling at the knotted rope wound ’round and ’round the form of his old acquaintance, who was trussed from head to heel. “Lend a hand, Captain. Or, wait, I’ll cut those ropes.” And he fished for his pocket knife, and getting it out, opened and began to slash the bonds. A moment later he desisted in order to pull away the huge bandanna knotted about the aristocratic Don Ferdinand’s jaw and efficiently stopping speech. The moment the gag was withdrawn, the old Don began to sputter.
“Hey, Captain,” Frank cried excitedly, “run to the edge of the roof and call out to the fellows.”
And as Captain Cornell hastened away to comply, Frank finished the task of releasing the Don and then assisted him to his feet. Don Ferdinand was so stiff from his bonds as to be unable to stand without assistance. But his tongue wasn’t stiff. It rattled on at a great rate. Frank, whose Spanish was somewhat rusty from disuse, had difficulty in understanding, so voluble was the Don’s speech. He knew, however, that his old friend was pouring vials of wrath on the head of the missing Ramirez; and he was tempted to smile, but by an effort managed to refrain.
In the mean time, he assisted Don Ferdinand to the open trap door, impressing on him that Ramirez had fled and that friends waited below. They were joined by Captain Cornell, who helped Frank lower the older man to the stool below. Thereupon the two followed, pulling the trap shut behind them. Captain Cornell urged haste.
“Let’s get out of this and get back to our own land,” he said. “We’ve rescued Don Ferdinand, thanks to you Frank. It would be a shame to get into trouble with the authorities now.”
Frank agreed, and with a hand under Don Ferdinand’s elbow hurried the frothing old aristocrat down the stairs. Not once did the latter cease his wrathy outpourings until they emerged on the street, where Mr. Hampton was first to greet them. But Captain Cornell interrupted the conversation between these two old friends before it could get well launched. He was impatient to be gone.
“We’ve had a lot of luck,” he said, “but it may not last. I don’t know what is the standing of this fellow Ramirez with the Mexican authorities. He may own the town, for all I know. Anyway, it would be a shame for us American officers to get into trouble over here now. Let’s go.”
They went. Somehow or other, the party which had come in the big car of the flyers and the Laredo taxicab, augmented now by the addition of Bob and Captain Cornell and Don Ferdinand, managed to swarm into the constricted space. It was a wild race for the Bridge, and so jounced about was everybody that ordered conversation was impossible.
“Pull up at the Hamilton, everybody,” Mr. Hampton had said, on starting. “Then we can have a council of war and hear Don Ferdinand’s story.”
So, although the car containing the flyers, drew rapidly ahead, those in the taxi felt assured that they would all be reunited, provided they managed to cross the International Bridge without running foul of the Mexican authorities. This they did, just ahead of the procession of cars coming from the bull fight. And in the lobby of the Hamilton, Don Ferdinand and his escorts found the men of the Border Patrol awaiting them.
“Whew,” said Captain Murray, as they trooped into Mr. Hampton’s sitting room, to the amazement of Mr. Temple who had spent the afternoon in a quiet siesta which their coming rudely routed; “that was a risky piece of business. We had no business invading Mexico, and if we had been caught at it by the authorities of Nueva Laredo we would have had to do some tall explaining. Glad it’s over—and without exposure.”
“I’ll not forget, old man,” said Captain Cornell.
“Rot.” Murray playfully pulled the other’s hat down over his eyes. “You’d do as much for any of us.”
Around the big room they all found seats, the seven young aviators of the Border Patrol, the Hamptons, the Temples and Frank, many sitting on the floor. Don Ferdinand was given the seat of honor, a huge winged arm chair. Perhaps, he would prefer to rest after his trying experiences rather than to talk, suggested Mr. Hampton; in which case they would permit him to retire, and he could relate his story later. But the old aristocrat waved that suggestion aside impatiently. He was filled with anger and eager to talk. Perhaps, too, added Mr. Hampton, he was hungry and would like to eat. But to that, too, the old Don said, no. Mr. Hampton did, however, ring for bottled ginger ale which when it arrived everybody eagerly seized.
Then with bottles in hand, they listened while Don Ferdinand explained how he had come to be in the predicament from which Frank and Captain Cornell had rescued him.
To begin with, Ramirez, as they already knew, had lured away a score of men from Don Ferdinand’s mine in the mountains, many miles to the west. The old Don feared Ramirez was preparing to gather a rebel army and launch a new rebellion. At one time, nothing would have pleased Don Ferdinand better. But he believed now that the Obregon government was stabilizing his country, and he wanted its peace to continue undisturbed.
In that isolated district, there was only a shadow of Federal authority, in the form of a commander and a score of troops in a small town garrison at the village of San Dimas. Don Ferdinand decided that it would be useless to appeal to such help, for in the meantime Ramirez would move eastward unhampered and continually gathering more troops. Accordingly, with his own followers at his back, he set out in pursuit.
Well mounted though they were, however, Don Ferdinand’s command failed to catch up with Ramirez. Through sparsely settled country, where the only human inhabitants were a few lonely sheepherders, led the chase. Now and then Don Ferdinand obtained word of Ramirez’s passing. Once, about fifty miles west of Nueva Laredo, they came upon a camp which Ramirez had made along the Rio Grande that was only a day old. The American town of Carana, a Texan village inhabited by Mexicans, was not far distant across the river. Then they pressed on toward Nueva Laredo, hopeful of meeting Ramirez before he could gain sufficient strength to attack the town.
But almost at once Don Ferdinand discovered that Ramirez no longer had with him the main body of his followers. Trail signs up to the last camp had indicated that more than a score of men rode with Ramirez. Now the signs showed that not more than four horsemen had proceeded from the last camp. They turned back at once in order to make a closer inspection of the camping place, and soon discovered that the score left behind had crossed the river in the direction of Carana, some three miles away.
This puzzled the old Don sadly. A dozen conjectures as to the reason for such a move whirled through his brain. The one most likely to be true, he believed, was that Ramirez had sent his main body along the deserted Texan shore toward Nueva Laredo while he and a few lieutenants approached it from the Mexican side. Many Mexicans live in Texas; and, therefore, the followers of Ramirez would be able to enter Laredo without detection and stay in the American town until they received word from their commander to enter Mexico. In the mean time, Ramirez could be preparing his plans in Nueva Laredo for a surprise attack that would put the town in his power. So Don Ferdinand pressed eagerly toward Nueva Laredo. He felt that this move would make the capture of Ramirez all the easier, and that with the brains of the revolution laid by the heels, there would be no revolution.
Five miles from Nueva Laredo, Don Ferdinand left his followers at the hacienda of a friend. Only one man did he take with him, whose duty it would be to act as messenger and summon the troop in case of need. He entered Nueva Laredo the next day and spent hours in making guarded inquiries.
No information. At least, none of value. Don Ferdinand had acquaintances in Nueva Laredo. His land-owning friend had others to whom he bore references. All knew of Ramirez and his former reputation as a smuggler and bad character. None, however, had heard of any revolutionary movement with him behind it, and only one had heard of his being in Nueva Laredo. He had been seen on the street, somebody had dropped mention of it to this informant.
Don Ferdinand pressed his inquiries further. Believing Ramirez’s command had crossed the Rio Grande fifty miles west in order to march into Laredo and there await word from their commander, he went to Laredo. A very good friend, a wealthy merchant, housed him. But inquiries made amid the lower strata of Laredo society by the merchant’s employees brought forth no information regarding an influx of strangers who might be Ramirez’s men. Then, driving across the International Bridge, Saturday night, Don Ferdinand in his friend’s car caught sight of Ramirez, only to lose the chase, as already narrated, through his accidental smashing into the taxi of his young friends.
The next day was the morning of the bull fight. Remembering his promise to call at the Hamilton Hotel Don Ferdinand was preparing for the visit when word was brought him that Ramirez had been located in a house on Calle Libertad. The informant was one of his merchant-friend’s employees—a laborer from the warehouse. He undertook to guide Don Ferdinand to a dive in Nueva Laredo, where they were to meet one of Ramirez’s men who had agreed to sell his information, if Don Ferdinand would buy. The merchant was asleep. Don Ferdinand did not wake him, but took the car which had been placed at his disposal and drove with his informant to the meeting place.
“It was a trick,” he explained. “Barely had I entered the dive than I was seized from behind, gagged and then taken in my friend’s car to the house in Calle Libertad.”
“And Ramirez?” questioned Mr. Hampton.
“At the house he met me. Our conversation I shall not repeat. It would only bore you. But, Senor Hampton, my good friend, I must tell you I was mistaken. This devil Ramirez, he think he have me in his power and can tell me all. Ah, he does not realize I have good friends who will come to my rescue. What do you think, Senor? He says he does not make the revolution; there is no money in that. Instead, he organized a—what shall I call it?—system of men for smuggling Orientals out of Mexico into the Estados Unidos.”
“An underground railway?” suggested Captain Cornell.
Don Ferdinand nodded.
“I was surprise’—me. He think, this devil Ramirez, it is I, Don Ferdinand, who want a share in this traffic which is so profitable. He think it is because of that desire for money that I pursue him. So now he capture me.”
Don Ferdinand’s listeners betrayed the keenest interest. Captain Cornell was especially eager for details. His suspicions regarding Ramirez and the latter’s projects were fulfilled. He wanted to know all. Questions poured upon Don Ferdinand in a flood, completely overwhelming him. At length he waved his hands impatiently.
“Senors, have a patience. There is little more to tell. This devil, Ramirez, he reveal that he take my man from the mine because he need men for his—what you call?—oh, yes, his underground railway. When he send them across Rio Grande, it is that they go to Carana and prepare. From Carana, these Orientals shall be sent to San Antonio and then distributed through Estados Unidos.”
“But didn’t he have other men?” asked Mr. Hampton. “Why should he go west to your mine, and take your men? Why should he take my cook Ramon?”
“About thees Ramon, I do not know. But Ramirez, he take my men because he know I shall pursue. Me, he have a grudge against this long time.”
Jack had been listening but at the same time his thoughts had been busy with conjectures. To him, it did not seem likely that Ramirez had laid his plans solely in order that he might lure Don Ferdinand into his power. Some other motive there must be. And his thoughts leaped to Rafaela. With the departure of her father and the major portion of his men, she would be left with but slim protection in her mountain fastness. Was it possible that Ramirez had deliberately planned affairs so that she should be left defenceless? He could not understand why this supposition occurred to him, not realizing that Rafaela was in the background of all his thoughts of late to a greater extent than he appreciated; but occur it did. And now he remembered, too, that when leaving home to fly to Laredo, he had been unable to gain a response to his radio calls to Rafaela.
Was it possible that already evil had befallen her? A sudden fear clutched at his heart. The others were talking among themselves, excitedly. Snatches of their conversation informed Jack that the aviators of the Border Patrol were discussing this turn of events and what it would mean for them, inasmuch as it placed in their possession the clew to a traffic in human contraband which would have to be broken up. Don Ferdinand for the moment no longer occupied the center of attention, and Jack, noting this, slipped around behind his chair and leaning over the back of the chair, addressed him in a low voice.
The old man listened a moment and then looked up startled, while over his features came an expression of alarm. He half started out of his chair.
“Jack, I am the fool,” he said. “That devil Ramirez, he have seen my daughter two-three month ago at the fiesta and have try to kees her. My men, they have beat him. He nurses revenge. It is for that revenge I think he try to get me in his power. But, no, it is that he may carry off my daughter while I am away. Fool, fool,” he cried, and struck his head with his clenched fist. Then his eyes brightened.
“But, no, Jack. If he want to carry off my daughter, why is he here?”
“I thought of that, too,” replied Jack. “But maybe he is trying to combine business with pleasure. While he conducts his smuggling operations, and lures you out of the way in pursuit of him, some lieutenant may be swooping down and carrying Rafaela away.”
Don Ferdinand frowned, twisting his mustaches ferociously. “He is a devil. He is smart as Satan himself. Perhaps, it is that you are right, Jack.”
Jack persisted. “Look here, Don Ferdinand. This fellow Ramirez had a band with him before he took your men away from the mine, didn’t he? Well, if he took a score from you, and that’s about all he brought this way with him, he must have left others behind in the mountains. He—”
“Enough, Jack. You are right.” Don Ferdinand leaped to his feet. “Fool, fool,” he cried again, once more striking his head.
At this gesture and outburst the others gained their feet and gathered around the pair, demanding to know what was the matter. As briefly as he could, Jack explained. In conclusion he added that so far as he could see, the first thing to do was to get into communication with Don Ferdinand’s ranch. Radio was the only means. Therefore, he would have to go at once to the flying field in order to call the ranch station.
The big fellow was dismayed. His handsome features were flushed. And his father, knowing more than the others of how Jack’s affections were involved, moved to his side and threw an arm across his shoulders.
“Easy, son,” he said. “If Ramirez intended to carry off Rafaela, he would have boasted of it to Don Ferdinand when he had our friend in his power.”
“Maybe so, Dad,” said Jack. “On the other hand, Ramirez might have been saving up that choice bit of information for a denouement. Anyhow, I think the best thing to do is to try and get in touch with Rafaela at once.”
“If you can’t get an answer, Jack,” Frank suggested, “suppose we fly out there in your plane.”
At that Captain Cornell shook his head. “It’ll be dark in another two hours,” he said. “And you couldn’t get started under an hour from now. The flight would take three hours. It would be folly to make the trip in your plane, Jack. You may know all that country well, but landing at night is a very different matter from making a daylight landing. If you were forced down, hm!” He shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands in an eloquent gesture.
“There’s a landing field at Don Ferdinand’s,” Jack expostulated. “And nothing would go wrong that would force me down between here and there.”
“You never can tell,” said Captain Cornell. “Besides,” he added, turning to the others, “we have something else to think about. Don Ferdinand,” he added, addressing the latter directly, “you were in that house longer than I. Besides, Ramirez boasted to you of what he was planning to do. Now I saw numerous pallets there, indicating that a good many Orientals had slept there only recently. Did Ramirez reveal what had become of them and when he intended to try to smuggle them over the Border?”
“They were taken out of Nueva Laredo last night,” said Don Ferdinand. “That much, he tell me. One was stabbed in a fight, but could walk. They are walking toward Carana.”
“Not on horseback?”
“No. And he say, this devil Ramirez, that he will put them across the Rio Grande tonight,” Don Ferdinand added.
“Boys,” said Captain Cornell, decisively. “That means work for us.”
The members of the Border Patrol nodded, their eyes bright. All but Captain Murray. “But Ramirez knows we’ll be on his trail,” he objected. “He knows we’re in it. Otherwise, Cornell, why did he capture you?”
“Huh. He was in that crowd in Nueva Laredo last night, when Don Ferdinand and the boys and I got together. Saw me stop Don Ferdinand and bring him back. Then he turned around and mixed in with the crowd. So he knew Don Ferdinand and I were acquainted. When he saw me examining his auto, out there in front of his house, or rather, Don Ferdinand’s stolen auto, he socked me. But—he doesn’t know I’m an aviator, or that you fellows who came to my rescue are aviators. I guess he’s still trying to figure out how you came to the rescue.”
Captain Murray’s brow cleared. “Good. Then he doesn’t know that the Border Patrol is on his trail. What a sweet surprise we’ll spring on him at Carana. We’ll take your ship and mine. I’ll telephone the field to warm ’em up—and they’ll be ready when we arrive.”
He turned to the room telephone. Jack halted him. “Tell them to warm my ship up, too, Captain, please,” he begged. “If I can’t get Don Ferdinand’s daughter by radio, I’ll have to fly over there.”
“One hundred and fifty miles,” interrupted Captain Cornell. “And dark in little more than an hour from now. You can’t do it, Jack. Night-flying is nothing for an inexperienced man to undertake.”
“We’ll see,” said Jack. “Anyway, you have my ship warmed up for me, please, Captain Murray.”
Leaving the room abruptly, with the remark that he would return in a short time, Jack went toward his own room on the same floor. A gabble of voices floated upstairs from the lobby, where the bull fight of the afternoon was under discussion. Frank and Bob, true comrades, followed him.
“What you going to do, Jack?”
“Get a sweater and helmet.” Jack’s lips set in a grim line.
“If you go, we’re going with you.”
“We’ll talk about that later. Thanks, though, fellows.”
As they returned, the aviators were emerging into the hall. With them were Mr. Hampton, Mr. Temple and Don Ferdinand, all wearing anxious faces.
“Here he is,” cried Captain Cornell. “Listen, Jack. We’ve decided what to do.”
The two groups faced each other.
“It wouldn’t do, Jack, it wouldn’t do at all, for you to fly in your boat to Don Ferdinand’s. Your boat is all right, I know, a peach of a little craft. But it isn’t equipped with a searchlight, and it’s too frail to be trusted in a forced night landing. Besides, you haven’t any experience in night-flying. So if it seems necessary to make a flight to Don Ferdinand’s, you and I’ll go in a De Haviland.”
Jack’s face which had been growing more and more set in a grim look of determination, lightened materially. “Oh, say, Captain, that’ll be fine,” he said. “You’re a white man.” And he gripped the other’s hand.
“Hm!” Captain Cornell grunted. “Come on, we’re all going out to the field. The fellows have their car at the door, and we’ve ordered a couple of taxis.”
In the hotel lobby, the group attracted considerable attention from the various groups of old-timers and tourists scattered about. Jack Hannaford, the old ex-Ranger, huge, grizzled, mustached, strode up to Captain Cornell.
“Howdy,” he cried. Then in a lower voice, he added: “Looks like trouble for somebody, when doggone near the whole Laredo flight of the Border Patrol puts its heads together. Got something you can let me in on?”
The others were going on. Captain Cornell was tempted to tell Hannaford of the expedition that was afoot. He liked the old Ranger. No harm could be done by it. On the other hand, nothing was to be gained. And his companions were waiting for him.
“Yes, a little expedition up the river, Hannaford,” he said. “I’m in a hurry. Excuse me now, and I’ll tell you about it later.”
Hannaford stepped closer and dropped his voice still lower. “Is it about Ramirez?” he asked. “You was asking ’bout him yestiddy, you know.”
“Ramirez?” gasped Captain Cornell. “Yes, Hannaford, it is. What do you know about him?”
“Nothing much,” said Hannaford, in a deceptively indifferent voice. “Only I know where he is.”
“You know where he is.”
“Uh. Doc Garfield jist telephoned me, right here in the lobby, that he got Ramirez in his office. The duck come in with a bullet through his arm. Broken. Wanted it set.”
“Hampton’s bullet did that. Doc Garfield? Where? Here in Laredo?”
“Uh-huh. Down near the Bridge.”
“Great guns.” The excited Captain Cornell stared incredulously at his informant. “Why’d this doctor call you?”
“Good friend o’ mine. Knows I got a grudge to settle with Ramirez. Wanted to know if there was any warrant out for him. Doc Garfield, he’s an old-timer. Knows these Border ruffians, most of ’em, by sight, anyways.”
“And you told him—”
“Tol’ him? What could I tell him? Tol’ him they was no warrants out that I knew of. But I was on my way to light out for Garfield’s when I see you come inta the lobby. Jist hung up the ’phone.”
“Hannaford, listen. No, wait a minute. My friends must hear of this. Oh, shucks, come with me. That’s the best way.”
Captain Cornell seized the old ex-Ranger by an arm and half-urged, half-drew him out of the lobby to the street.
Two taxicabs and the big touring car from the aviation field, his friends in them and anxious to go, stood at the curb as Captain Cornell with Hannaford beside him, came down the steps.
“Snap into it, Cornell,” called Captain Murray, impatiently. “Get into one of the taxis. We’re loaded.”
He stepped on the starter and the big car began to roar. Captain Cornell cleared the sidewalk in one jump, and landed on the running board. “Stop your engine. I’ve got news.”
“News?”
“You bet.” The excited Captain Cornell turned toward the two taxis and waved their occupants to approach. The three boys who were in the nearer taxi were by his side in a moment, for they sensed from his manner that he had something important to divulge. The three older men who were in the farther taxi were slower to approach. Yet they, too, hurried their pace on noting Captain Cornell’s air of suppressed excitement.
“Fellows,” he said, low-voiced, as the tense group gathered around him and Hannaford, “I know where Ramirez is. And we’re going for him right away.”
Quickly he explained what Hannaford had just revealed to him.
“And don’t worry none about bein’ legal,” said Hannaford. “I’m a deputy sheriff, and bein’ as how you got somethin’ on Ramirez which makes it all right for us to go after him, I’ll swear you all in as members o’ my posse.”
“All right, Hannaford, step on it,” said Captain Murray. “Climb in with us, and show us the way.”
Hannaford was bundled into the foremost car, Captain Cornell joined the boys in the first taxi, and both cars got off to an almost equal start. That bearing Mr. Hampton and Mr. Temple and Don Ferdinand was slower in getting under way, but kept the others in sight.
“This shoulder of mine has felt better in its time,” grunted Mr. Hampton to his companions. “I planned to wait until we got to the flying field, where I could have the flight surgeon examine and treat it, and wouldn’t have to make embarrassing explanations. But, maybe, this Doctor Garfield can fix me up.”