Chapter 15

THE KEY TO THE MYSTERY

"What is it?" cried Jack, pressing forward.

"Yes, tell us," demanded Bob and Frank as in one breath.

The three boys crowded around Mr. Temple, who in one hand held the mass of documents and in the other the letter. He was reading the latter.

"Boys," said he, "this proves Rollins's complicity in a plot against us. But it makes matters more puzzling and complicated, too."

"How is that, sir?" Jack inquired.

"Well, first of all," said Mr. Temple, holding up the thick sheaf of papers, "this is Mr. Hampton's own original list of the leases secured by the group of independent oil operators to which I belong and which he represents here in the field."

"Is it a copy of the list I recovered from the thief who stole it from Mr. Hampton's house on Long Island?" asked Bob.

"No," smiled Mr. Temple. "It is the original. That was the copy. And this letter with it is one written by Rollins to a man in New York City who is one of the minor officials of the Oil Trust. It is too long to read to you. But from it I gather that Rollins is a spy in the employ of this official."

"Say, Dad," declared Bob, "this is too much for me. If the Octopus is responsible for our troubles, then where do the Mexicans come in? And vice versa?"

"That's what I had in mind, Bob, when I said this discovery complicated matters," said Mr. Temple.

"Sh," warned Jack, from the window toward which he was glancing at that moment. He sprang forward to see better. "Here comes Mr. Rollins now. And in a tearing hurry, too."

Rollins jumped from his horse and ran along the porch to his room. They heard the door slam, and then sounds of a furious searching being carried on. The boys and Mr. Temple, gathered around the door and window, looked at each other significantly.

"Found he dropped his papers and came back for them," whispered Frank.

A moment later Rollins called for Gabby Pete from the door of his room. The cook hurried to him from the kitchen.

"Pete, did I drop an envelope--a long blue envelope--at breakfast?" asked Rollins, making no attempt to conceal his anxiety.

Before Gabby Pete could reply, Jack stepped impulsively from the doorway.

"Yes, you did," said he. "Pete gave it to me to keep for you."

"Where is it?" Rollins brusquely demanded.

"Step into my room," said Jack.

Rollins complied. When he saw Mr. Temple, Bob and Frank, he recoiled as if to flee. But Jack barred the doorway. Rollins was speechless. Mr. Temple advanced, holding out the document and the letter.

"Your duplicity is discovered, Rollins," he said. "I make no apology for having opened your sealed envelope, because last night Jack Hampton discovered you at the radio station with Remedios, and we knew you were faithless to your trust. Come, make a clean breast of it."

Rollins's face went white.

"You, you read the letter?" he gasped.

Mr. Temple merely nodded.

Rollins seemed to shrink and grow older before their eyes. Suddenly he sank into a chair. His shoulders sagged. Pressing his hands to his eyes, he bent forward and began to cry. Not the noisy crying of a child but great, dry, wrenching sobs.

"Come on, fellows," said Jack in a low voice. "Let's leave him to Mr. Temple."

The older man nodded approval and the three boys filed out, closing the door behind them. Simultaneously each drew a long breath of relief. Bob was the first to speak.

"Dad'll get it out of him," he said

"I'm hungry," said Frank plaintively.

At that moment, Gabby Pete poked his head from the doorway of the kitchen. Seeing the boys, he called:

"Come an' git it."

The three started on the run for the dining room, their youthful spirits rebounding from the depressing scene in the room they had just quit in answer to the tang of a perfect day and the cook's breakfast call. Bob suddenly halted with an exclamation.

"How about Dad?"

"Oh, he's too busy to miss his breakfast," said Frank. "Anyhow, we can get the cook to put up something for him."

"Yes, I'll speak to Pete about it," said Jack. "Come on."

They ate hungrily with little conversation. Pete hovered near and his presence restrained them from talking about the topic that was uppermost in their minds.

"How about taking a look at the radio plant?" asked Jack when they had ended breakfast.

The others agreed eagerly. They were in the act of leaving the table when Mr. Temple appeared. They crowded about him with questions.

"Easy, easy there," he protested. "I'm hungry as a hunter. Suppose you boys wait outside for me while I get a bite, and then I'll join you."

When Mr. Temple emerged, he lighted a cigar and leaned against a pillar. The boys stood about him. For several moments he was silent, staring out over the expanse of desert to the hills beyond, all shimmering beneath the heat of the summer sun.

"It's a long story," he began, "but I'll simplify it for you. Rollins held the key to the mystery. He has a family back East, an invalid wife, a son in college, a daughter just preparing to enter college. All that takes money, for doctor bills and school bills and clothes for the girl. Rollins was a poor man on a salary.

"He needed money and couldn't see his way to getting it. Then a minor official of the Octopus put temptation in his way by making him a proposition. Mind you, he wasn't one of the big men of the Oil Trust. I feel certain they know nothing about all this.

"This man proposed that Rollins obtain certain inside information about the independent oil operators and sell it to him. Rollins wanted to, but couldn't get the information. It was too closely guarded by Mr. Hampton.

"It was then that another temptation came Rollins's way." Mr. Temple paused. "A weak man seems to carry certain earmarks that draw scoundrels to him, boys," he said. "It was so with Rollins. At this moment a representative of Calomares, the Mexican landowner who is backing the northern rebels, sought him out with a proposition that he betray his employers. The rebels, as I suspected, wanted to make trouble for President Obregon, of Mexico, by embroiling him with the United States. And the way they wanted to set about it was by raiding the independent oil operators. They needed a spy at our headquarters, and they proposed that Rollins should become their man.

"Then Rollins had an inspiration. He told the Mexicans that if they would help him, he would aid them. It was agreed. The agent who had acted for Calomares in the negotiations was this German, Von Arnheim, an aviator and a German secret agent in Mexico during the war. He took the man Morales with him to Mr. Hampton's Long Island home to steal the duplicate list of independent leases and other data which Rollins had learned was kept there."

"That's where I came in," grinned Bob.

"Yes," said his father, "and it was because you foiled them that Rollins came into possession of Mr. Hampton's own original copy of the list and other data. For he stole it from Mr. Hampton's effects after Von Arnheim and Morales had carried him away captive in our airplane."

"How about this attack on us yesterday?" asked Jack.

"As you suspected, it was for the purpose of capturing me, too," said Mr. Temple. "And Rollins had let the bandits know when I would arrive. Remedios was his go-between."

"Well," said Jack, "there's only one thing more."

"What is that?" asked Frank.

"Why, I'd like to know whom Rollins radioed to last night."

"I found that out, too," said Mr. Temple. "He was talking to the Calomares ranch in Old Mexico, which has a very powerful station, according to Rollins. He says the German, Von Arnheim, told him that there are similar powerful radio stations scattered throughout Mexico and South America, all built by German money for the use of its spy system. And he said this German told him the most powerful station of all was on an island in the Caribbean, and that it was so powerful it could communicate with Nauen, Germany."

It was apparent that Mr. Temple had concluded his explanation, and Bob and Frank began to ply him with questions. Jack, however, stood silent, his face averted. Mr. Temple presently broke from the others and laying a hand on Jack's shoulder whirled him about.

"Father?" asked he, in a kindly tone.

"Yes, sir."

"Well, Jack, I've got the beginnings of a plan in mind. But first I must get more information from Rollins. Then I'll talk to you again."

Jack looked him squarely in the face.

"Mr. Temple," said he firmly, "I'm desperate. Father is everything in the world to me. I'll wait to talk with you. But I tell you frankly the only plan that appeals to me is to ride into Old Mexico and rescue him."

The eyes of Bob and Frank, who had turned to listen, lighted up, and they nodded vigorous approval. Mr. Temple stood off and looked at the trio of husky fellows as if seeing them for the first time.

"Perhaps," said he, "that is what you will soon be doing."