FLYING TO THE RESCUE
"Come on. Strip."
It was Bob talking, and the command was addressed to Morales and Von
Arnheim. Tom Bodine stood guard over them with leveled revolver.
"But, why?" protested Von Arnheim.
"Ask us no questions an' we'll tell you no lies," said Tom, waving his
weapon. "Jest do what you're tole."
Sullenly the two men obeyed. When their outer clothing had been
removed, and they stood revealed in light-weight undergarments--a well
set-up powerful pair of men, about the height of Jack and Bob although
neither was so sturdy as the latter--Bob halted them.
"That's enough," he said. "Here put these around you."
And he tossed them rubber ponchos which they threw around their
shoulders.
Scooping up the discarded clothing of the two men, Bob and Jack
retired to the radio room. Stripping quickly, Jack dressed in Morales'
clothing and Bob in that of the German aviator. This arrangement was
adopted because Jack could speak Spanish with considerable fluency and
thus fitted into the role of the Mexican. Bob, on the other hand, was
better adapted to pass as the German who, they had been informed by
Roy Stone, spoke Spanish only awkwardly.
"Buenos dios, Senor," said Jack, bowing gracefully.
"Ach du lieber Augustine," answered Bob, standing at salute.
They burst into hearty laughter, in which they were joined by Frank
and Roy Stone, who were present at the transformation.
"How will we do?" asked Jack.
Stone eyed them critically.
"To fellows that know Morales and Von Arnheim only by sight," he said,
"you will pass for them easily enough. Both of them are smooth-shaven,
which is unusual, for Mexicans and Germans both favor mustaches. But
that's all the better for you boys.
"One thing you want to remember," he said to Bob, "and that is to walk
pretty stiffly like you had a bone in your leg an' swallowed a ramrod.
That's the way Von Arnheim always steps out, An' both of you keep your
hats pulled down."
"Now you boys have got the bearings I gave you. You can easy enough
find the landing field, even in the darkness. It's a big meadow as
flat as a table, with the ranch house and outbuildings in a clump at
one end, an' the radio station with its big tower supporting the
antenna at t'other. Both places will be all lighted up, for Calomares
lives like one o' them old-time barons an' he's always got so many
men around the place he needn't fear nobody, so why put out lights?
He likes light. He's a bug on it, in fact."
"Suits me," said Bob. "That gives me some beacons to go by."
From the foregoing it will be seen that the boys had changed
materially their original plan of riding in as adventure-seeking
American youths to enlist in the rebel forces, and wait their chance
to effect the rescue of Mr. Hampton. As matters now stood. Bob and
Jack were to land in the airplane, and while Bob stayed by it, Jack
was to make his way to the room where his father was held prisoner,
free him, and guide him back to the airplane, when they would fly for
the border.
Of course, the plan would not be so easy of execution as it sounded.
To find the ranch and make a safe landing would be a fairly easy task.
The ranch was not more than fifty miles distant by air line, and in
that sparsely habited country there would be no other similar group of
lights to puzzle Bob. Once they had alighted, however, the
difficulties would be encountered.
At first the boys had considered the advisability of waiting until a
late hour to make their attempt. Rebel headquarters then would have
retired for the night, and they would run less danger of encountering
anybody on landing. In that event, however, they soon realized, ranch
and radio station alike would be dark and Bob would have no beacons to
guide him to a landing.
No, there was only one thing to do, and that was to arrive at an early
hour. Moreover, there would be this advantage attached, namely, that
sentries would be lax and that, with many persons coming and going in
and about the ranch, the passage of a familiar figure, such as they
would take Jack to be, would arouse no comment. Jack might be halted,
of course, by some one desirous of conversation. But he could make
some excuse to pass on. As a matter of fact he planned to wrap a
handkerchief about his jaw and pretend to be suffering from toothache.
This would serve the double purpose of partially hiding his features,
and of excusing him from indulging in extended speech.
"All right," said Jack, finally, as he finished donning his disguise
by clapping Morales' hat on his head. "Let's go."
"Ya, ya," said Bob, doing a goosestep. Once more they all had a good
laugh. Then Bob and Jack walked into the outer room of the cave,
followed by Frank and Roy Stone. Stone had thrown caution to the
winds, and had decided not to try any longer to hide his defection
from Morales and Von Arnheim.
"I'll soon be riding away from here with you, anyhow," he told Frank.
"And they'll find out then, if they haven't already suspected. I'm
going down to the airplane to see the kids off."
Frank had demanded this privilege of going down to the valley and
seeing Bob and Jack get away, and the others had no thought of denying
him. So all four, bearing the oil torches kept in the cave by Stone
for the purpose of lighting the landing field at night, descended from
the cave. Tom Bodine was left to guard the two prisoners.
These had again suffered the ignominy of having their hands tied,
after they had undressed, and, wrapped in the rubber ponchos given
them by Bob, they had flung themselves down on the pallet prepared the
previous night by the boys.
Stationed in the outer entrance of the cave, Tom Bodine looked around
at the two prone forms several times. But always they lay motionless
under their ponchos, and there seemed no cause for suspicion regarding
them. Poor fellows, thought Tom, who held no particular animosity
against them, they had had a hard time of it lately. After landing
from a flying trip, they had been set upon and beaten. Then, made
prisoner, they had spent the intervening hours cramped in bonds and in
doubt as to what their captors intended doing with them. Probably were
tired out and asleep by now, thought Tom. He even tiptoed over to
where they lay and found, as he had expected, that both had their eyes
closed and were breathing heavily.
Returning to the entrance, Tom took a step or two forward so as the
better to see past the big rock outside and thus get a clearer view of
the airplane. The boys had reached it by now, the oil flares were
planted to both sides, and it was illuminated, standing out in the
tossing light like a great bird.
As the propeller began to whirl, Tom took another step or two forward.
An airplane was a new puzzle to him, and he was so interested in
watching it get under way that he forgot his trust, forgot he had
prisoners to watch, forgot everything but the mystery of that piece of
mechanism, that gigantic bird, running bumpily now over the ground and
now beginning to lift into the air, and now----
Tom whirled about. The old instinct of the man who lives much in the
open, telling him danger is close at hand, was stirring at the roots
of his hair. But he was just a trifle too late. As he faced about, a
form shot out of the cave and Tom, totally unprepared for attack, was
bowled over.
As he fell he let out a great wordless cry, thinking to warn Frank and
Roy Stone. Then the butt of a revolver descended on his head.