SETTING THE TRAP.
But all in a moment Bob saw, and his heart gave a great bound as if it
would leave his breast. And then he but ran the harder. Until presently
the running form behind young Juan closed up on the latter and drew
abreast of him, and then two young fellows, breathing hard, paused and
faced each other while from Bob’s lips burst the single exclamation:
“Frank.”
“Do I look like a ghost?” panted the latter, for in his comrade’s eyes
was such a gaze of utter astonishment as to prompt the question.
“No,” said Bob slowly. “No-o.” And the color which had drained from his
cheeks returned.
“But—” And he passed a hand across his eyes, as if to test whether what
he saw was vision or reality. “But,” he added, “how in the world did you
come here?”
“In a taxi,” said Frank. And now Bob noted a twinkle in his comrade’s
eyes, and he sensed that the latter was enjoying the situation.
He looked aside, puzzled, and noted young Juan standing by, all
impatience, bouncing first on one leg and then on another.
“But you, Juan,” he said in Spanish, “tell me. How did you happen to
meet this man?”
“Oh, Senor, he and two others came racing in a taxicab along the Avenue
of the Presidents. And I, thinking them your aviators, stepped out in
the street and called to them to stop. Then they asked where you were,
and I explained, and brought this one with me. And the others—they
remain to keep watch on the place of which you know.”
Bob made a gesture which seemed to say that he was more deeply bemused
than before, and once more turned to Frank.
“Think a minute, old hot head,” laughed Frank. “It was easy. You called
the aviation field by radio and—”
But then Bob interrupted, as the light dawned.
“Great Scott,” he cried, punching Frank so hard that the latter reeled
backward; “what a boob! I forgot entirely about that belt radio of
yours. So you heard me call.”
“Not I?” said Frank, “but Jack. He was wearing it at the time. He
remembers Morse better than I because he’s been using it lately. And
when he heard you rapping out your call for the aviation field he became
excited, and when he heard your explanation and call for help, nothing
could hold him. He listened just long enough to get your directions.
Then he and his father and I almost fought our way to the exit. For, you
see, the bull fighting was still going on and the crowd hated to be
disturbed by having us make our way out. We got many an ugly look, and
there were cries against the hated Gringoes. I looked for a knife
between my ribs every minute. But we managed.
“And then down at the gate there came a taxi cruising along
providentially. Jack talked to the chauffeur, who said he could land us
at the right place. Lucky you gave such explicit directions. And here we
are. The rest you know.”
Bob nodded. He was silent a moment, thinking. This unexpected appearance
of help changed the complexion of matters. He must speak to Jack and Mr.
Hampton and put them in full possession of the facts. But the corner he
had watched must not be left unguarded.
“Juan,” he said, turning to the Mexican boy, “these are not the
aviators, but some other friends. We can do nothing as yet. I must
consult with the others. Will you take my place at yonder corner and
keep vigilant watch?”
“Oh, yes, Senor.”
And young Juan, who was all a-quiver with the thrill of being in the
midst of a mystery, sped willingly away.
“Come on.” Bob took Frank’s arm and headed him about.
Around the corner, and some distance removed from the deserted house
which marked the exit of the secret tunnel, stood a taxicab drawn up
behind the rattle-and-bang flivver which Bob and Captain Cornell had
commandeered at the bull ring. Beside it on the sidewalk stood Mr.
Hampton and Jack, and at the wheel drowsed the chauffeur. A quick glance
showed Bob he was an American, one of the hardened Laredo breed.
Mutual explanations were quickly made, and then the three boys talked
excitedly but in lowered voices, while Mr. Hampton listened with a smile
of amusement. Hot heads they were, all for trying to gain entrance to
the house into which Captain Cornell had been dragged, despite the fact
that they were unarmed.
But Mr. Hampton shook his head.
“Why not?” persisted Bob. “All we have to do is to go up to the door and
demand that our friend be turned over to us. There are five of us,
counting the chauffeur, and Ramirez wouldn’t dare to start anything with
such a mob.”
“But if he should—”
“In broad daylight? I don’t think so,” scoffed Bob.
“This isn’t the United States, Bob,” remarked Mr. Hampton. “No, the best
we can do is to keep watch to see that they don’t escape, and for that
purpose I think we better divide our forces. Frank and I’ll run around
to young Juan’s corner in the taxi, while you and Jack stay here with
the flivver. We’ll be ready in either case to take the trail, whether
they leave by front or rear. Not that I believe Ramirez will leave until
after dark, however.”
“All right,” grumbled Bob. “I’ve got sense enough to see that what you
propose is really the right course. Just the same, I’d like a little
action.”
Mr. Hampton smiled, then his face drew into a thoughtful frown. “I
wonder what is Ramirez’s game,” he said.
“And I wonder how he became suspicious of Captain Cornell,” said Bob.
“Well, no use speculating. You better get under way, if we are to keep
double watch.”
With a nod of agreement, Mr. Hampton turned toward the taxicab,
beckoning Frank to follow. But they were not destined to put their plan
into execution, for at that moment, Jack halted his father and pointed
up the street. All turned to gaze. A powerful motor car, with the top
down and spilling over with men, was approaching at high speed. A
comet’s tail of dust whirled and eddied behind it. And the driven motor
gave off a droning roar that was music to their ears.
“Hurray,” cried Bob, exuberantly, “Captain Murray and his gang.”
He leaped into the middle of the street, waving his arms frantically,
and the car slackened speed and rolled to a stop behind the taxi. A half
dozen young men, looking fit for anything, leaped to the ground and
crowded around Bob.
“Where is he?”
“Where’s the house?”
“Lead us to ’em.”
“Here, fellows, give him air,” said one, jovially, yet with the
unmistakable ring of authority in his voice. Shoving aside one of the
newcomers who blocked his way, he confronted Bob with out-stretched
hand. “I’m Murray, and I guess you’re Bob Temple, aren’t you? Didn’t get
the chance to meet you the other day when Cornell had you out at the
field.”
Bob looked into keen blue eyes on a level with his own, set in a
sunburned face that won his instant liking. Their hands gripped, fell
apart. Each felt an instinctive regard for the other.
“All we know is what you gave us through the air,” laughed Captain
Murray. “Shoot both barrels as quickly as you can, so we know how the
land lies. Then we’ll go into action.”
“Right,” said Bob, “but, first, meet the rest of my gang.”
Introductions followed, while Bob explained how his two friends and Mr.
Hampton, overhearing his S.O.S. call to the aviators, had themselves
responded. Briefly, he put Captain Murray in possession of the major
facts.
The latter nodded briskly at Bob’s conclusion. “First thing,” he said,
“you fellows who brought two automatics, kick loose with the spares.
Right—” As his brother aviators began arming Mr. Hampton and the three
boys. “Now, let’s see. There are ten of us, not counting the chauffeur.
I’ll take four and go ’round to the front of the house. Lieutenant
Bracewell, do you take charge with the other half of our party at this
end. Mr. Hampton, will you and your son come with me. Hartridge,
Thorsen. Fine.”
He leaped to the wheel of the big car, and the others piled in behind
him. A momentary pressure on the starter button, and the engine began to
purr. Then he leaned out to give final instructions.
“Boys, we’re going to get Cornell out of that. But I want you to
remember that we’re in a foreign country. If this came out, there would
be a pretty mess. However, the outfit we are after undoubtedly is
comprised of crooks who won’t air their difficulties, so I think we are
reasonably safe from the danger of embroiling the government with the
Mexican authorities. However, if any trouble develops, I’ll take the
blame. You all are acting under my orders.
“Now, Lieutenant Bracewell, I’m going to pick up this Mexican boy that
Bob has stationed around the corner and he’ll point out the house. Then
I’m going to go right up to the door and demand entrance. If they turn
Cornell over to us, well and good. If they resist and I need help, I’ll
blow my whistle. You will be able to hear easily. Meantime, guard this
secret exit. Got it?”
Young Lieutenant Bracewell, a slender taunt youngster little older than
Bob, nodded. Among the aviators was an easy _camaraderie_ that to Army
martinets would have seemed lamentable. Yet co-operation was none the
less effective.
Captain Murray released the clutch and the car rolled ahead, gathered
speed, whirled around the corner, and disappeared from view.
Wasting no time, the young commander turned at once toward Bob with a
question regarding the secret tunnel. Bob explained what Juan had told
him. The other nodded.
“Well,” he said, “the best thing for us to do is to get into that house
and keep watch right at that trap door. Should the rascals try to escape
that way, it will be an easy matter to bag ’em one at a time as they
climb out, while if we wait outside for them there is bound to be a
fight. And we want to avoid bloodshed, if possible.”
Bob nodded enthusiastic endorsement, and without any more being said the
whole party with the exception of the American chauffeur of the taxicab
started toward the house. Frank dropped behind for a word with the jehu,
then rejoined the party.
“He wants to keep out of it,” Frank said. “He’s all right, but he has to
do business in this town and doesn’t like the notoriety. I told him we’d
pay him handsomely.”
As they approached the deserted house, Lieutenant Bracewell took the
lead and tried the door. It was locked. They looked around for something
with which to pry open the lock, but without success.
“Here, no time to waste,” said the young leader. And stepping up, he
placed the muzzle of his automatic against the key hole and pressed the
trigger. The report was muffled. A strong shove, and the door flew open.
There was only one room, and it was empty and deserted. Empty save for a
litter of rubbish at one corner, which on examination showed signs of
recent disturbance. Lieutenant Bracewell kicked it aside, and then
emitted a grunt of satisfaction. A trap door was exposed beneath the
litter.
“Over to this side, fellows,” he said, speaking in a low tone, and
stepping to the side of the room which would be cut off by the upflung
trapdoor from the view of anyone ascending from the tunnel. “No talking
now. We’ll give them a nice little surprise party, if they decide to
come out this way.”