CHAPTER VI.

HIT FROM THE REAR.

It was not yet dark when Jack reached the Laredo air-drome. He dropped downward, sure of his welcome. Skimming the fence on the western end of the sandy flying field, he leveled off a foot above the ground. A second later, he dragged back on the stick, and the plane came down for a perfect three-point landing of wheels and tail-skid.

As Jack stood idling, running out the gas, a little group which had been watching his descent broke up into its component parts. The members came running, and a sound of cheering reached his ears.

Big Bob Temple led, with the slighter Frank close at his heels. More sedately, Captain Cornell who had been with them approached in the rear, in companionship with Mr. Temple.

As Jack and his father reached the ground, the two youths in the lead literally fell on them and a great to-do of back-thumping and handclasping went on. Mr. Hampton was first to disentangle himself, and moved to greet his old neighbor and lifelong friend, Mr. Temple, who stood aside watching with amused gaze the boisterous greetings of the youths. Greetings over, Mr. Hampton turned to the army flyer who expressed warm pleasure at seeing him.

All three youths by now had their arms over each others’ shoulders and were doing a dance reminiscent of an Indian war fling. Not until they were breathless did they separate, whereupon Jack moved to greet Mr. Temple and Captain Cornell.

“Don’t bother about your plane,” said Captain Cornell. “I’ll see that it’s taken care of.”

He beckoned to several members of the airdrome crew who took the wings on either side and guided the ship into line with a number of De Havilands.

“They’ll go over it for you,” said Captain Cornell, “and see that it’s in ship-shape for going up whenever you want it.”

“Fine,” said Jack, “that’s mighty good of you.” So eager was he to get away with Bob and Frank that he had given no thought as to what he should do with his plane.

Thereupon, with a brief word of farewell, the three sallied off arm in arm, Jack in the middle, toward where a taxi waited to take them into Laredo.

“We’ll see you all at dinner,” called Bob.

His father nodded understandingly. When he saw the taxi whirl away in a cloud of dust, Mr. Temple turned to his companions with shaking head and twinkling eye.

“We really oughtn’t to let them go out of sight,” he said. “If they don’t get into mischief, it’ll merely be due to the fact that they’re too busy talking. Well, come on, I’ve another taxi here, George, and we’ll follow to the Hamilton Hotel and have dinner. Captain Cornell has consented to honor us with his presence.”

The three men thereupon climbed into another taxi, and followed toward the town.

Mr. Temple’s prophecy of resultant mischief was not fulfilled, however, for, aside from the fact that the room occupied by Bob and Frank looked as if a small cyclone had struck it, no damage had resulted from the reunion of the three inseparables. They were sprawled about the room in various stages of undress, sweltering in the oven-like heat, despite the coming of darkness and the whirling electric fan. And their tongues were going at such a great rate, as Jack attempted to put his comrades in touch with the mysterious happenings of recent days while they were informing him of the doings of themselves and other of his friends at Yale, that Mr. Temple put his fingers in his ears.

“Well, get it out of your systems, fellows,” he said. “And then spruce up. We dine in a half hour. Meet us in the dining room, and be sure to be on time.”

When the boys entered the dining room of the hotel, they found the three men already there and seated at a table for six. The room was crowded, every chair taken. But the three empty chairs at their table had been turned down, and the head waiter had shooed away interlopers. All three youths had now filled out into big men, even Frank who was the slightest of the three. In their flannel trousers and lightweight blue serge coats, with fresh vivid faces, alive and eager, they made a pleasing sight. And many was the approving glance thrown at them by grizzled and tanned old-timers whom they passed on their way.

“Been duding up,” said Captain Cornell, with a grin. He himself in his flyer’s uniform made a distinguished figure.

The boys sank into the chairs pulled out for them, and conversation became general as the dinner progressed.

“What’ll we do tonight?” asked Jack, as the dinner neared conclusion.

“How about seeing the sights?” proposed Captain Cornell, who apparently considered himself in the light of guide to the party.

“Of Laredo?” asked Jack. “Not much to see, I guess, is there?”

“No. Of Mex town—of Nueva Laredo across the line.”

“What is there to see?”

“Oh,” said Captain Cornell, “for one thing, a sight that has vanished from our own country—the open saloon. I gather that we are all teetotalers, but that needn’t bother us. An occasional bottle of ginger ale will be our passport. Then, too, we can toss a little change to the dance hall girls for putting on their turns. And we can take a look at the gambling—take a whirl, too, if you desire. I remember once dropping a quarter in one of those machines and turning up a full house on the cards. Paid me five dollars,” he concluded reminiscently.

“Golly,” said Jack, eyes shining, “sounds like the Old West—just like the days of ’49 in California.”

“Yes, it is like the Old West—but with a difference,” said Mr. Hampton. “The dance halls, saloons and gambling houses of the Old West were operated for the recreation of a stern and hardy breed of men. Those of Nueva Laredo, like those of Juarez, Mexicali and Tia Juana, however, are operated mainly for the American tourists who roll across the Line in their motor cars. I’ll tell you,” he added, “I’ve gone slumming so often that I don’t care about it. But you boys may as well see what things are like, and if Captain Cornell consents to pilot you I don’t see why Temple and I shouldn’t be permitted to stay here and take things easy.”

Mr. Temple nodded, a look of relief in his eyes.

“I’ll tell you, George,” he said, confidentially, “Bob and Frank have been a trial to me. If I can get away from them for awhile, I have no objection to letting Captain Cornell assume the responsibility.”

The young army flyer laughed.

“I’m afraid I’ll be a poor chaperone,” he said. “But I’ll do my best.” And he rose.

The others pushed back their chairs and rose, too. As they moved toward the door, a voice hailed Captain Cornell from a side table, and he spun about to find a huge sun-burned and grizzled man in flannel shirt and cowboy boots rising to greet him, showing two big revolvers at his hips as he stood up. They talked a moment or two, the big man’s voice booming and Captain Cornell’s lower-pitched, the words of both indistinguishable.

After a good look at the flyer’s companion, the party moved on toward the lobby where presently they were rejoined by Captain Cornell.

“That was Jack Hannaford of the Rangers,” he said. “We fellows of the Border Patrol work together with them a good deal. Jack has been famous along this Border for forty years. Said he understood that after tonight Uncle Sam is going to close the International Bridge at 9 o’clock at night, after which hour any Americans in Nueva Laredo will have to stay there until the next day. So this will be your last chance to see what Mex town is like at night, because you’d be hardly likely to care to spend the night there.”

“Why is that?” asked Mr. Temple.

Mr. Hampton was about to answer but Captain Cornell forestalled him.

“To cut down this business of Americans going across the Line and making a wild night of it,” he said.

Mr. Hampton nodded. It was the answer he himself had been about to propose.

“Come on, then,” said Jack. “Let’s hurry. If the word is generally known, it’s likely to be a big night at Nueva Laredo, isn’t it?”

“Quite likely,” agreed Captain Cornell. “Excuse me a minute, while I order a taxi.” And he stepped to the desk.

While he was absent, Mr. Temple with a look of some anxiety lectured the youths on the necessity for avoiding trouble in Nueva Laredo.

“Oh, Dad,” said Bob, a bit impatiently, “we’ll be all right. Nothing is going to happen. Why, it’ll be just like Coney Island. Besides we’re able to take care of ourselves.”

“Huh.” Mr. Temple snorted. “Why, even while I’ve been looking at you, you’ve gone and got into trouble that took you a year to shake off.”

There was a general laugh. Then up came Captain Cornell to bear the youths away.

“Taxi’s waiting,” he said. “Well, good-bye. Look for us around midnight.”

But at the door he paused in sudden thought. “Tell that taxi to wait a bit, fellows,” he said. Frank obediently crossed the sidewalk and told the driver of the rickety vehicle to wait for them. When he returned a conversation was going on which informed him that Captain Cornell had decided to doff his uniform before entering Mexico.

“We’re about of a size, Captain,” Bob was saying. “Come on.” And he bore him away.

Frank turned to Jack for an explanation and was informed Captain Cornell had decided not to wear his uniform because it would bring undue notice in Mexico and might induce some rowdy to start a fight.

The others returned in a very short time, the flyer attired in a companion suit to Bob’s, and then climbing into the taxi all four set out for the International Bridge.

“I thought I was big,” Captain Cornell said to Bob, “but you’re bigger. Certainly the coat isn’t too tight.” And he flexed his arms. “Well, here we are.”

As he spoke the taxi nosed out upon the bridge, going at a snail’s pace and stopping alongside of the first official. A number of other similar stops were made, in order to satisfy a variety of officials, both American and Mexican. Then they rolled off upon a narrow, rough, unpaved street lined with little saloons. They were open-front establishments, and from them came a glare of light and a blare of noise. Up and down the sidewalks, under wooden canopies, pushed and surged a noisy crowd. Taxis and private cars sped recklessly up and down or shot from side streets at dizzying speed.

“Whew,” said Jack, “you know you’re in a foreign country all right.”

“Good-bye, Uncle Sam,” cried Bob gaily, looking back and waving his hand. Then a cry of alarm burst from his throat, he leaped to his feet, and the next moment was hurled into Jack’s lap as the taxi was struck from the rear with a sickening crash and went careening drunkenly across the uneven roadway to end up against an iron pillar supporting a sidewalk canopy.