CHAPTER V.
THE WOLF IN THE BEAR'S BED.
The two boys traveled for three days and nights, the general directionbeing south. There were, however, numerous halts and turns in thejourney to the Rio Grande. Three times Fremont was left alone atjunction towns while Nestor took short trips on cross lines. Once thepatrol leader was absent hours after the time set for his return, andthe boy was anxious as well as mystified.
Fremont knew that his traveling companion was receiving telegrams incode all the way down, and knew, also, that his movements were in ameasure directed by them. Still, one delay seemed to lead to another,as if new conditions were developing. The movements of the boys, too,were carefully guarded, so carefully, indeed, that it seemed to Fremontthat Nestor was continually spying upon some one, as well as hidingfrom those who were spying upon him.
Time and again Fremont asked his friend to explain the mystifyingsituation, but never succeeded in gaining satisfactory information onthe subject of the frequent halts and seemingly useless journeys backand forth. At various times during the journey he secured newspaperscontaining wild and improbable theories of the crime which had beencommitted in the Cameron building. Mr. Cameron's death, the dispatchessaid, was hourly expected, so the unfortunate boy received littleencouragement from his reading of the New York news.
Early in the evening of the third day out the boys reached El Paso, onthe Texas side of the Rio Grande. They found the city looking like amilitary encampment. Soldiers wearing the khaki uniforms of Uncle Samwere everywhere, martial music filled the air with its shrill fifingsand deep drum-beats, and there was a gleam of polished steel whereverthe boys walked.
It was a scene well calculated to stir the imagination and excite thepatriotism of the Boy Scouts, and for a time the excitement of it allforced Fremont's troubles from his mind. The boys dined at arestaurant and then Fremont went to a comfortable room which had beenengaged in a small hotel while Nestor went out into the city, "to spyout the resources of the land," as he declared.
Fremont, however, knew that his friend was very anxious over something.There appeared to be some new complication which the patrol leader washaving a hard time puzzling out. It may well be imagined that hisreturn was awaited with impatience. His face was very grave when atlast he entered the room.
"I'm sorry I have no better report to make," Nestor said, throwinghimself into a chair, "but the fact is that we've got to lose ourselvesin the mountains across the river as soon as we can do so. We can getacross to-night, of course, but must hustle after we get across. Wecan get provisions at San Jose."
"We've got to carry the provisions into the mountains on our backs?"asked Fremont.
"We surely have," was the reply, "and we've got to lay low while we arecooking and eating them. The Sierra del Fierro mountains, where we aregoing, are lined with insurrectos, and they are not in good humor justnow."
"I'm game for anything, so long as we can get out of the beaten way,"replied Fremont. "I've felt all the way down that we were beingfollowed. Anyway," he continued, more cheerfully, "I shall enjoy thesight of a mountain campfire again. We don't have to take any matcheswith us. I can build a fire, Indian-fashion, with dry sticks and acord. My Boy Scout experiences will be of service now, I take it."
"And you must fix up a little disguise to get over the river in,"continued Nestor. "The New York police are in communication with theofficers here, and the latter are out for the $10,000 reward. As yoususpected, we have been shadowed from New York. More than once I threwthe shadows off the track, but they landed again. There are mostunusual conditions around us, and we must be very discreet. After weget across the Rio Grande the danger will decrease."
"It makes me feel happy again," Fremont said, after putting on a new,cheap suit and tinting his face, "this idea of meeting a different sortof danger. I can't stand this lurking peril--this obsession that someone may spring out upon me from some dark corner at any minute. Get meout by a mountain camp-fire, old fellow, and I'll be game for anything."
There was a short silence, and then the boy went on.
"I don't understand exactly why you are heading for Mexico, but onecountry is as good as another just now. The police over there are saidto be in close touch with those here, and to be brutal in theirhandling of prisoners. However, let us make up our minds that we willhave nothing to do with the police."
"We are going to Mexico for three reasons," Nestor said, in a moment."I can't tell you all about the three now, but one is to get you out ofthe way until the real criminal is discovered. The other two will showin time, and are likely to bring out a great deal of excitement."
"I have been wondering all the way down here," Fremont said, "why youcopied one of the papers in the Tolford estate packet. I know now.There is in that sheaf of papers a description of a lost Mexicanmine--a very valuable mine which has been lost for any number of years.I remember of hearing Mr. Cameron discuss the matter with one of theheirs. The lost mine seems to be the most valuable item in the estateschedule," the boy went on. "At any rate, there has been a lot ofquarreling over it. That paper contains the only description inexistence, and all the heirs want it."
"So you think I'm going after the lost mine?" laughed Nestor.
"If you are not, why did you copy the description?"
"How do you know that I copied the description?"
"You copied something."
"Yes; I copied the description of the lost mine. I thought it mightbe of use to us, and it may prove of the greatest importance."
"Then you think the man who invaded the office and struck Mr. Camerondown is interested in the lost mine?" exclaimed Fremont. "You think hecommitted the crime to get the description? That he copied it, andleft the original paper there to throw off suspicion? That the man weare in quest of will go directly to the lost mine? Is that why you aregoing to Mexico? Is that why you said, from the start, that the cluepointed across the Rio Grande?"
"Don't ask so many questions," laughed Nestor. "There is a shadowysuspicion in my mind that the assassin is interested in the Tolfordestate, if you must know, but I may be entirely mistaken. Still, wemust remember that on the occasion when the Tolford papers were in theoffice over night, there was an attempt at robbery. This may be acoincidence, but it is worth looking into."
"I should say so," cried Fremont, with enthusiasm. "I should say itwas worth looking into. Now I begin to see what you mean by comingthis way, and why you dodged about on the route down. You think thelost mine man is watching us."
"I don't think anything about it," said Nestor. "I never imagineissues, and I never form theories. One thing I know, and that is thatwe shall find friends over in Mexico. You may even come upon some ofthe Black Bears there."
"I hope so," was the cheerful reply.
"In which case," continued Nestor, "you might take the suggested ridedown the Rio Grande."
"Not with the mountains in sight, and a lost mine to find," exclaimedFremont.
"And a brutal assassin to bring to punishment," added Nestor.
"And the third motive for visiting Mexico to develop," smiled Fremont."I wish I knew about that third motive. I understand the firsttwo--one you told me and one I guessed."
"You shall know the other in time," said Nestor. "Just at present,however, the secret is not mine. Important issues are at stake, and Imust keep my lips shut, even when talking with you, concerning ourmission."
"All right," said Fremont. "Don't worry about me. I'll get it out ofyou in some way. See if I don't."
Shortly after this conversation closed Nestor went out into the city toarrange for the trip to the mountains. As he left the little hotel heimagined that he saw men bearing unmistakable stamp of plain-clothespolicemen hanging about, and it also seemed to him that he was followedas he walked down the crowded street toward the river.
It was late when he returned to the room where he had left Fremont. Hissuspicions had proven to be more than suspici
ons, for he had indeedbeen tracked from the hotel, and had been obliged to do a great deal ofwalking in order to leave his pursuers behind. When he entered thehotel he saw that the plain-clothes men were no longer on duty at thefront.
He climbed the stairs to his room and opened the door with a littlequiver of the lips, for the place was dark and silent. When he turnedon the lights, however, he was easier in his mind, for there was thesleeping figure he had hoped to find.
In a moment, however, his eyes fell upon a heap of clothing lyingacross a chair near the head of the bed. Those were not the clothesFremont had worn. These were soiled and torn. Whose were they, then,and how was it that they were there?
He shook the sleeper lightly and a dust-marked face was lifted from thesheltering bed-clothes. But the face was not that of Fremont, but ofJimmie McGraw. Nestor started back in wonder. How had the boy comethere, and where was Fremont? Had he been taken by the police? Was healready on his way back to the tombs? Then Jimmie sprang out of bedwith a grin on his face.