In Hot Haste
Dick and Tom were in Steve’s quarters that night, a prey to the deepest
restlessness and anxiety. The amount of the ransom had been collected,
and they were awaiting the return of the messenger from Espato’s band.
He had promised to be back in a week for the money but was already a day
overdue.
“What could have happened?” fumed Dick, as he paced restlessly about the
room.
“All sorts of things,” replied Steve gloomily. “It’s possible that in a
fit of drunken rage Espato may have killed Phil. Or again Phil may have
tried to escape and have been brought down by a shot.”
Tom winced at the very possibility.
“Even then, though,” he suggested, “the Mexican might come for the money
just the same in the hope that he’d get it anyway and then give us the
double cross.”
“If the scoundrel does, he’s got the biggest surprise of his life coming
to him,” snapped Steve. “I don’t know just what plans Captain Bradley
has for ensuring Phil’s safe delivery in case the ransom is paid, but
he’s a wise bird and you can bet that no greaser will be able to put one
over on him.”
Just at that moment the Captain himself stepped into the room and they
stood at salute.
“Happened to be passing,” remarked the Captain, “and stepped in on the
chance that you may have heard something about that Mexican from
Espato’s camp.”
“Not a thing,” returned Dick. “We were just talking about that when you
came in. We can’t understand it and we’re almost wild with anxiety about
Phil.”
“I don’t mind admitting I’m worried myself,” returned the captain.
“Those Mexicans are slow and lazy, but not when such a large amount of
money is concerned. Still, some accident may have happened to detain him
and he may turn up at any time.”
Just then there was a signal from the radio set and Steve turned to take
the message. He listened a moment and then jumped as though he had been
shot.
“It’s Phil!” he shouted. “Phil’s sending. Do you hear me, fellows? It’s
Phil!”
There was a wild yell from Dick and Tom as they rushed to his side,
crazy with delight and scarcely able to believe their ears. Phil, good
old Phil, still alive and talking to them. Was it possible or was it
only a dream?
Captain Bradley, scarcely less upset than themselves, had joined the
excited group about the instrument. The message was coming in the code,
and as they were all familiar with it they could read it from the clicks
as it came along.
“Phil Strong sending,” spelled out the message. “Prisoner in Espato’s
camp. Am hoping this will reach Captain Bradley’s camp of Texas Rangers
at Laguna. Need help and need it quick. Some prisoners killed today. I
may be next. Espato planning to make my death slow and hard. No time to
lose. Will stop now and wait for answer.”
The clicks ceased, and the excited auditors looked at each other,
delight that Phil was still alive and rage at his fiendish captor
mingled on their faces.
“Answer him,” cried Captain Bradley. “Don’t wait a minute. Tell him
we’re coming to his help. Get from him whatever he knows that can guide
us to the camp. Quick!”
Steve needed no urging, for before the captain had finished speaking his
finger was busy with the key.
“We got you, Phil,” he said. “Thank God you’re still alive. Captain is
here and Dick and Tom. They’re wild to be after you. Keep up heart. Tell
us as nearly as you can where you are. Give us something to guide us.”
They waited with thumping hearts and bated breath for the answer which
came promptly.
“Thank Heaven you heard me, Steve,” it clicked. “Here are the directions
as far as I know them. I’m nearly a day’s journey away. When I came to
myself after being knocked on the head I saw that the greasers were
taking me in a general south by southwest direction. The cave is on a
plateau near the top of a mountain. There are two peaks, one of them
like a church spire, the other with a rough likeness to a dog’s head.
It—”
“I know it,” cried the captain. “It’s the Monte de Cano. I know just
where it is. That’s enough.”
Then he checked himself, for the message was continuing:
“It’s impossible to get there tonight, but you might make it tomorrow
easily. Hope you recognize it. If you don’t it’s probably all up with
me. Answer.”
Scarcely had the clicking stopped then Steve, following the captain’s
directions, was sending.
“Captain Bradley talking,” he radioed. “He knows the place. We start at
once. Travel the rest of the night, lie low in the day to avoid
observation, reach you tomorrow night. Count on us. Be on your toes when
the rush comes. Don’t answer. We’re off.”
“Get ready, boys,” said the captain. “We start in half an hour. Report
at headquarters at the end of that time. See that your plane is in
perfect condition, for there must be very careful reconnoitering on this
trip.”
He left the room hurriedly to give his orders.
Steve looked enviously at his two friends who were in a perfect frenzy
of eagerness and anticipation.
“Some fellows have all the luck,” he grumbled. “Here I am tied to this
shack while you ginks are on your way for a fight with the greasers. It
isn’t a square deal.”
“You’re getting your share all right,” replied Dick. “We wouldn’t be
going at all if it hadn’t been for this old shack, as you call it, and
the radio set that’s in it. Then too, perhaps you’ll have another
message from Phil tomorrow. If you do, let us have it right away. We’ll
keep in touch with you by radio from the plane.”
“You bet I’ll stick to this old radio set like a long lost brother,”
replied Steve. “Probably though, Phil won’t dare to radio in the daytime
for fear of being observed, and on the other hand I won’t dare to send
to him for fear the clicking of the signal may betray him. But if
anything does come, I’ll be right here.”
As the boys were about to go out, the door was flung open without
knocking, and into the room swaggered the insolent Mexican messenger of
Espato’s whom they had been expecting.
“Ah, senors,” he said with a sweeping bow that had mockery in it, “Eet
ees me, you see. A leetle late but still I come. Zee money. Ees eet
ready?”
Behind his back the boys carefully closed the door.
Steve rose slowly to his feet.
“It has been hard to get,” he said apologetically. “In fact, I’m afraid
we can’t give you so much.”
As he spoke he edged imperceptibly nearer.
The beady eyes of the Mexican glittered like those of a rattlesnake.
“Zen ze Americano die,” he exclaimed angrily, “and O, how he weel die!”
he added, smacking his lips gloatingly.
Like a battering ram Steve’s fist shot out and smashed the scoundrel
straight between the eyes. The man went down to the floor with a crash.
He struggled groggily to his feet and tried to draw a knife, but Dick
wrenched it from his hand, and in a moment they had him bound fast with
a cavalry belt that Tom snatched from a nail on the wall.
“Now, you skunk,” said Steve, “let me tell you something. You’re not
going to get ten thousand dollars and you’re not going to get a cent.
And what’s more, we know where the prisoner is and we’re starting out
tonight to get him. And we’re going to get Espato too and wipe that camp
of yours off the map. Sabe?”
If looks could kill, Steve would have been blasted on the spot by the
hate that shot from the malignant eyes of the prisoner.
“Now, fellows,” Steve continued, “I know you’ll have to be hurrying but
just take a minute and run over to the captain’s quarters and tell him
we’ve got this reptile. He may be able to do something with him that
will help you on this trip.”
“All right,” agreed Dick.
“And you’re the fellow that was growling just now because you weren’t
going to be mixed up in this expedition,” laughed Tom. “Seems to me
you’ve had considerable fun already.”
“Yes,” grinned Steve. “It sure has helped some. It’ll be a satisfaction
as long as I live to think that I had a crack at this fellow. I’ve been
aching to ever since he was here a week ago.”
The boys hurried over to the captain’s quarters and told him of the
capture of the messenger. He was highly pleased and sent Chips and
another of the Rangers over to Steve’s cabin to get the fellow, whom he
decided to take along with him on the expedition. He might be forced
into giving important information regarding the mountain pass that led
to the camp.
At the end of the half hour everything was ready. The notes of a bugle
rang through the camp. The airplane carrying Dick and Tom whizzed into
the air and the Rangers leaped into their saddles.