CHAPTER XVI.

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.”