RESTING UP
Swiftly Tom Bodine trussed up the unconscious German with the man's
own belt, while Jack similarly treated the thoroughly cowed Mexican,
Morales. Meanwhile, Bob went to Frank's aid, assisting him to a chair,
bringing him water from a spring in a corner of the inner cave and
fanning him with his sombrero.
None of the three boys had suffered more serious injuries than
bruises, but Frank had been badly battered in the encounter with his
heavier opponent and the muscles of his left shoulder had been
severely strained.
Despite the mauling he had received, Frank wanted to go and inspect
his beloved airplane at once and Bob, the co-owner with him, was
equally eager. Jack, however, protested.
"No, sir," said he firmly, "you are in no condition to go chasing off
down this rocky slope. The airplane isn't going to fly away. It's in a
pocket in the hills that nobody is going to discover. And, anyhow,
there is nobody around in this desert place to do any discovering.
"Moreover," he continued, "it is almost morning now. We all have been
riding all night and with this fight coming on top of everything else,
we are thoroughly tired out. So, instead of any more conversation
tonight, I propose that we turn in and go to sleep, leaving one man on
guard. At the end of two hours he can call another fellow, and in that
way we can all get four or five hours sleep. I'll take the first watch
and--"
At that moment a groan from one of the prisoners on the other side of
the room interrupted, and with an exclamation Bob started forward.
"Good gracious," he said, "I'd forgotten all about that chap. His arm
felt wet and sticky when we were wrestling and I believe he's the man
Tom wounded with that first shot in the darkness."
Bending over his late opponent, Bob noted a dark brown stain on the
left shoulder of his coat.
"Only a flesh wound, I reckon," said the other. "But it sure hurts.
Are you going to leave me like this?"
Bob flushed.
"Of course not," he said. "What do you think I am? Here, let me help
you up and we'll have a look at it."
Bob assisted the other to a chair. His hands were then untied, the
coat sleeve cut away and an examination made of his injury. It proved
not serious. The man told Bob where to find a bottle of iodine. He
winced under the sting of its application, but made no outcry. Then a
rough bandage was made of clean handkerchiefs, and the boys stood back
to examine their handiwork, for all had taken part in the operation.
"You're some fighter, kid," the other said approvingly to Bob. "But I
reckon I'da got you at that if it hadn't been for that arm."
"Maybe so," Bob modestly agreed. "You put up a stiff fight."
"You're an American, aren't you?" asked Frank. "What's your name? And
how do you happen to be with these fellows?"
"Why not?" said the other, answering the last question first. "I'm a
rolling stone and joined up with this outfit because it looked like
something doing. And that's what I want. As for my name, it's Roy
Stone. And you guessed right. I am an American. Born an' raised in
Wooster, out in Ohio."
He paused and looked curiously from one to the other of the boys. Tom
Bodine was examining the two other prisoners for possible injuries
needing attention. Stone nodded toward him.
"I can place a fellow like that, all right," he said. "Know this kind
down here on the border. But who are you? You're only kids. What's
your game? Are you with Obregon?"
"No, indeed," said Bob. Turning to Jack, he whispered:
"Is it safe to tell him who we are? He's an American. And, somehow, I
have an idea he might help us."
"Well, it won't hurt, I guess," said Jack, doubtfully. "He might
escape and betray us to rebel headquarters, but I suspect we can guard
against that. Besides, he's bound to find out our identities, because
those other two chaps will recognize you."
"Hardly in this rig," said Bob, referring to his clothing. "We talked
all that over, you remember."
"That's right. I had forgotten."
Bob and Jack had drawn aside during the whispered colloquy. Now Bob
turned back to his prisoner.
"Look here," he said. "We'll have a little talk later. Right now we
all need a good sleep."
Without more ado, Bob and Frank tied Stone's hands and led him to his
bed, behind a curtain in one corner of the outer room. They considered
that inasmuch as he was wounded, he was entitled to the bed. The
German had recovered consciousness from the blow on the head dealt him
by Tom, and the latter already had ranged him and the Mexican along
the wall where the sentinel could keep an eye on them. For
themselves, the boys pulled a heavy rug to another portion of the
wall, spread the heavy hangings formerly covering the door to the
inner cave on top, and here Bob and Frank lay down with their ponchos
over them. Presently they were joined by Jack who had planned to mount
guard the first two hours, but who had been overruled by Tom Bodine.
"No, you don't," said the latter. "I'm a tougher bird than you, and I
take this job myself, an' that goes."
Too tired to protest very vehemently, Jack turned in after exacting a
promise that Tom would call him at the end of two hours. The old
cowman, however, had no such intention. It was not until eight hours
later that he summoned Jack. The lights in the cave still burned
brightly, for Tom had refrained from switching them off for the
obvious reason that they made it easy to keep an eye on the prisoners.
Day-light, however, showed at the mouth of the cave. When Jack noted
the time, he began to scold.
"Forgit it," said Tom Bodine, gruffly. "You boys needed a good sleep
while I'm an old hand at ridin' night herd. It didn't bother me none
to stay up."
Without further words, he turned in and was asleep almost on the
instant. Jack roused Bob and Frank, and while Bob mounted guard at the
mouth of the cave where he could keep watch both on their prisoners
and on the approach from below, the two others explored a rude pantry
behind a curtain. They found a plentiful stock of provisions, which
made it unnecessary for them to draw upon their own limited food
supplies for breakfast.
When they themselves had eaten, they released the captives one at a
time and fed them, afterwards replacing their bonds. The Mexican and
the German were surly and uncommunicative. The latter tried to ply
them with questions, but when they refused to answer he adopted a
bullying tone and threatened them with all sorts of dire punishment.
His threats, however, were no more effective at breaking down their
silence than were his questions.
Bob remained at the doorway to avoid the risk of recognition by
Morales and Von Arnheim as the youth who had foiled their attempt to
steal Mr. Hampton's papers from his Long Island home. Jack, who had no
means of knowing how much the traitor, Rollins, might have told Von
Arnheim in the past about Mr. Hampton's personal affairs, watched
keenly for some indication on the German's part that he had formed an
idea as to their identity, but none was forthcoming.
Jack was correspondingly elated.
"I suppose," he said to Frank, after Morales and Von Arnheim had been
fed and returned to the other side of the cave, "that Rollins never
bothered to speak about us because we were just boys. Then, too, you
fellows arrived only the very day that we discovered Rollins's
treachery and put a stop to his communications with these people."
"That may all be true," said Frank. "Probably it is. Just the same,
Von Arnheim and Morales are bound to put two and two together and make
a shrewd guess as to our identities, even if they say nothing to us
about the matter.
"But," he added, confidently, "what if they do? We have them prisoners
now and if we keep them well guarded until we have rescued your
father, what does it matter how much they know?"
Jack nodded agreement.
"We'll have to keep mighty strict watch, though," he said. "Well, now
let's feed this American, Stone. I'll draw straws with you to see who
keeps guard while Bob comes to get his breakfast at the same time. He
wants to talk to Stone, he said."