"YOU WILL BE SHOT AS SPIES"
When Bert had somewhat recovered from his surprise, he rushed to the
wall and pressed the spring to open the passage. A form in girl's
clothes climbed quickly through, but it was the voice of Harry that
whispered:
"Hustle, Bert, and close the passage. No telling when they may discover
that the bird has flown. I must get under cover with these duds on."
He jumped into bed and drew the sheet up close around his neck.
"I'm quite ill, you know; sudden attack of malaria. Can't receive any
callers."
"Has Miss Juanita gone to see the consul?" asked Bert.
"Not unless the consul has taken a trip to the mountains."
"What do you mean--why don't you let me in on your plot now that you
seem to have carried it out successfully?"
"Can't be sure of success just yet, but I think it will work."
"And when do we get out?"
"I don't know; maybe we are in it tighter than ever. Sure to be if they
find that we or rather I had anything to do with her escape, and I guess
they must sooner or later."
"Where has she gone?"
"I hope by this time she is pretty well out of the town, headed for the
open between here and the mountains. In the darkness she is all right
and the deception will not be discovered. She makes a very good boy and
as she is about the same heighth as I am my clothes fit her first rate.
The pass will carry her through the lines all right and as she knows the
country like a book, I hope she may make the mountains and the road to
Cubitas before daylight. If she does she is safe, and I have a strong
conviction that she will meet Captain Dynamite on the march before
midday to-morrow. And gee, what a meeting that will be--I should like to
be there and see the expression on big O'Connor's face when he sees
her."
"Then your plan did not have anything to do with our release from this
place?"
"Nope--only Miss Juanita's. She was in danger; we are not."
"We may be after this."
"Yes, but I think we can depend upon O'Connor. Mason and Washington
should have reached him by this time."
"What can he do to help us?"
"I don't know, Bert, but I think he is the sort of man who will find
something to do."
"What are you going to do for clothes?"
"That's another problem that will have to work itself out. Meanwhile I
shall have to stick to Miss Juanita's dress. Didn't you think it fitted
well? I shall have to have it let out around the waist a little, I
think. I guess they don't serve any supper in this hotel, and as I got
very little sleep last night, I think I will take a snooze while we wait
for something to happen."
Harry was soon fast asleep, but Bert, though also very tired, was more
anxious as to the outcome of their affairs and sat for a long time on
the edge of his bed, thinking. The moon rose in a clear sky and cast two
bright beams through the barred windows and across the prison floor.
Bert's revery was disturbed by the sound of hurrying feet in the
corridor and the clamor of loud voices approaching their cell.
"I guess something's going to happen," said Bert, nervously to himself.
"Perhaps I better be asleep, too." He rolled over onto the bed and
appeared to be deep in slumber when the door was thrown open roughly and
three men entered the room. They were General Serano, who was scowling
darkly; Consul Wyman and the ever-smiling interpreter.
"I wonder why he always mixes up in everything," thought Bert as he
peeked at their visitors out of the corner of his eye.
Serano stopped just beyond the threshold and in surprise pointed to the
two occupied beds. Then he said something in Spanish to Mr. Wyman, who
replied calmly:
"I told you that neither of them had been at my house. You see for
yourself that they are both here. There must be some mistake."
"But there can be no mistake about one of them having left this place
within two hours," said the interpreter. "The jailer let him out."
"Then he must have let him in again, for there they both are soundly
sleeping."
"But the jailor says that he did not, and it was the boy's long absence
that caused the general to send me to your house to see if he was there.
You have not seen him; some one unquestionably left the prison; no one
has returned and yet they are both here--what does it mean?"
Mr. Wyman shrugged his shoulders and turned to the general.
"The boys indicated to me that they were ready to give the information
that you desired. I made arrangements as you know, to have one of them
come to my house and there tell his story. Neither of them came.
Perhaps they changed their minds."
"Let us question them."
The interpreter stepped to Bert's bedside and as he did so the boy sat
up and rubbed his eyes as if just awakened.
"Good evening, gentlemen. Good evening, Mr. Wyman. What can we do for
you? Is it morning yet?"
"Did either of you leave the prison to-night?" asked the interpreter
quickly, without preliminary. Bert, who was entirely ignorant of what
course Harry intended to pursue, dared not answer, fearing that he might
undo some of his companion's plans.
"Why, I've been asleep for some time and my friend has a bad attack of
malaria," he answered yawning. "I see that is moonlight and not
daybreak. Can't you call around in the morning on your way to breakfast?
We'd ask you to take a bite with us, but I do not think you would like
the bill of fare."
"Will you or not answer a plain question? The general waits."
"Tell the general not to let me detain him. Ask him to drop in in the
morning, too, when he has more time."
The man turned to Serano and shook his head.
"They are impossible, sir."
Bert saw an amused smile creep around the corners of the consul's mouth.
"Let us try the other."
As he spoke the general touched Harry on the shoulder. The boy drew the
sheet closer around his neck, and murmured:
"Please go 'way."
"We only want to know if you left the prison to-night to see Mr. Wyman.
He is here with us."
"No, I haven't been out of your old prison since you put us here."
"But you intended to go."
"Yes, but I changed my mind. I'm very apt to do that. I'm sorry if it
put you out any, but I do not see why you couldn't wait until morning
for my apologies."
"But the jailor says he let one of you out to-night and that no one
returned."
"Your jailor is very silly. If he let one of us out and didn't let him
back how could we both be here now? I don't want to cast any reflections
on General What's-His-Name's intellect, but I should think he might
figure that out for himself. Come around in the morning and we will talk
it over. But I should advise you to look around for another jailor. This
one's imagination is too strong."
"Then if you did not leave the jail and you have changed your mind, you
have no use for that pass that General Serano sent you," said the
interpreter, with his genial smile. Bert looked at Harry in dismay. How
was he to get out of this snarl?
"No, that's quite true. Bert, will you get the pass for the general out
of the pocket of my coat on the chair there?"
"Your coat is not here, Hal," said Bert in apparent surprise as he
stepped to the chair.
"Not there? What nonsense. Tell the general that I shall hold his jailor
responsible for my clothes. How under the sun am I to go about in my
underclothes. It is not the value of the suit at all. It is pretty well
used up now, but it's the principle of the thing."
As Harry talked he thrashed about under the bed-clothing as if in anger.
"And then there was nothing of importance in the pockets--no papers that
could be of any possible value to any one. It is an outrage--tell
General What-You-May-Call-Him that I consider it an outrage on a
helpless prisoner to have his clothing sneaked away in the middle of the
night, either for the profit of the jailor or the possible information
of his captors. Mr. Wyman, is there nothing that can be done in this
matter?"
General Serano spoke a few words to the interpreter, who promptly
repeated them with evident glee.
"The general says you are to get out of bed."
"It's all up now," thought Bert, and his face turned a shade paler.
"The general is inconsiderate; however, since he insists I will take the
chances of another chill."
As Harry spoke he drew his legs up from under the sheet and stood down
on the floor clad only in his underclothing. He had somehow managed to
slip out of the girl's dress while he protested against the
disappearance of his clothing. Bert drew a breath of relief; but the
respite was brief. General Serano, either thoughtlessly or by design,
threw back the sheet from Harry's bed as soon as he touched the floor
and disclosed the dress from which he had with difficulty extricated
himself.
"Whose is this?" demanded the general, pouncing on the garment and
holding it out for inspection.
"Whose is this?" repeated the interpreter like a parrot.
"How should I know," answered Harry.
"Probably belongs to one of your former tenants."
"It's a woman's dress."
"Yes, it looks like it. Better look up your register and see who had
this room last."
At this moment there was a sound of hurrying footsteps in the corridor
accompanied by a volley of Spanish expletives uttered in a frightened
voice.
"I wonder what's going to happen now," whispered Harry to Bert. "These
people are so full of life it makes me tired to watch them."
The turnkey burst into the room with hands uplifted and eyes bulging. He
spoke a few panting words to General Serano who seized him by the neck
in anger.
"She is gone, fool? How can she be gone unless you let her out?"
Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, he dropped his hold on the man
and turning to Mr. Wyman, held out Juanita's dress excitedly.
"See, she is gone."
"Who is gone?" asked the consul, calmly.
"She--she in the next cell. This dress is here; the boy's clothes are
gone and some one left this room to-night."
"You mean to infer that the boys contrived the escape of the woman in
the next cell?" asked Mr. Wyman.
"Yes, yes, what other inference is there?"
"But can you explain how they could have communicated with her, how they
could have exchanged clothes and how she could have left this cell?"
"No, no, I cannot explain that, but here is the evidence--here and
there;" and he pointed excitedly to the wall of the next cell.
"The irascible old general seems to be wise on the passage," said Harry,
under his breath.
"How can that be evidence if you cannot explain it, general?" asked the
consul, gravely.
"No, he's not on, after all," whispered Bert.
"They shall explain," said the general, sternly pointing to the boys.
"We're in it again," said Bert. "I wish he wouldn't do that. It makes me
nervous."
The general seemed to be working himself into a fury. He raised his
voice as he delivered what was apparently an ultimatum to the consul.
"No, no, not that," cried Mr. Wyman, in frightened protest.
Without a word in reply General Serano turned on his heel and strode out
of the room.
"What did the angry gentleman say, Mr. Wyman?" asked Harry.
"He said that if you did not explain the disappearance of Miss Juanita
within forty-eight hours you would be taken out into the jail yard and
shot as spies."
"Ah, Miss Juanita, eh. Then they know her," said the genial interpreter
as he slunk from the room. "I must tell General Serano."
Before the eyes of the boys there rose with vivid distinctness the
picture of the jail yard at dawn.