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Radio Boys on the Mexican Border

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<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2> <h3>FLYING TO THE RESCUE  </h3> "Come on. Strip." It was Bob talking, and the command was addressed to Morales and Von Arnheim. Tom Bodine stood guard over them with leveled revolver. "But, why?" protested Von Arnheim. "Ask us no questions an' we'll tell you no lies," said Tom, waving his weapon. "Jest do what you're tole." Sullenly the two men obeyed. When their outer clothing had been removed, and they stood revealed in light-weight undergarments—a well set-up powerful pair of men, about the height of Jack and Bob although neither was so sturdy as the latter—Bob halted them. "That's enough," he said. "Here put these around you." And he tossed them rubber ponchos which they threw around their shoulders. Scooping up the discarded clothing of the two men, Bob and Jack retired to the radio room. Stripping quickly, Jack dressed in Morales' clothing and Bob in that of the German aviator. This arrangement was adopted because Jack could speak Spanish with considerable fluency and thus fitted into the role of the Mexican. Bob, on the other hand, was better adapted to pass as the German who, they had been informed by Roy Stone, spoke Spanish only awkwardly. "Buenos dios, Senor," said Jack, bowing gracefully. "Ach du lieber Augustine," answered Bob, standing at salute. They burst into hearty laughter, in which they were joined by Frank and Roy Stone, who were present at the transformation. "How will we do?" asked Jack. Stone eyed them critically. "To fellows that know Morales and Von Arnheim only by sight," he said, "you will pass for them easily enough. Both of them are smooth-shaven, which is unusual, for Mexicans and Germans both favor mustaches. But that's all the better for you boys. "One thing you want to remember," he said to Bob, "and that is to walk pretty stiffly like you had a bone in your leg an' swallowed a ramrod. That's the way Von Arnheim always steps out, An' both of you keep your hats pulled down." "Now you boys have got the bearings I gave you. You can easy enough find the landing field, even in the darkness. It's a big meadow as flat as a table, with the ranch house and outbuildings in a clump at one end, an' the radio station with its big tower supporting the antenna at t'other. Both places will be all lighted up, for Calomares lives like one o' them old-time barons an' he's always got so many men around the place he needn't fear nobody, so why put out lights? He likes light. He's a bug on it, in fact." "Suits me," said Bob. "That gives me some beacons to go by." From the foregoing it will be seen that the boys had changed materially their original plan of riding in as adventure-seeking American youths to enlist in the rebel forces, and wait their chance to effect the rescue of Mr. Hampton. As matters now stood. Bob and Jack were to land in the airplane, and while Bob stayed by it, Jack was to make his way to the room where his father was held prisoner, free him, and guide him back to the airplane, when they would fly for the border. Of course, the plan would not be so easy of execution as it sounded. To find the ranch and make a safe landing would be a fairly easy task. The ranch was not more than fifty miles distant by air line, and in that sparsely habited country there would be no other similar group of lights to puzzle Bob. Once they had alighted, however, the difficulties would be encountered. At first the boys had considered the advisability of waiting until a late hour to make their attempt. Rebel headquarters then would have retired for the night, and they would run less danger of encountering anybody on landing. In that event, however, they soon realized, ranch and radio station alike would be dark and Bob would have no beacons to guide him to a landing. No, there was only one thing to do, and that was to arrive at an early hour. Moreover, there would be this advantage attached, namely, that sentries would be lax and that, with many persons coming and going in and about the ranch, the passage of a familiar figure, such as they would take Jack to be, would arouse no comment. Jack might be halted, of course, by some one desirous of conversation. But he could make some excuse to pass on. As a matter of fact he planned to wrap a handkerchief about his jaw and pretend to be suffering from toothache. This would serve the double purpose of partially hiding his features, and of excusing him from indulging in extended speech. "All right," said Jack, finally, as he finished donning his disguise by clapping Morales' hat on his head. "Let's go." "Ya, ya," said Bob, doing a goosestep. Once more they all had a good laugh. Then Bob and Jack walked into the outer room of the cave, followed by Frank and Roy Stone. Stone had thrown caution to the winds, and had decided not to try any longer to hide his defection from Morales and Von Arnheim. "I'll soon be riding away from here with you, anyhow," he told Frank. "And they'll find out then, if they haven't already suspected. I'm going down to the airplane to see the kids off." Frank had demanded this privilege of going down to the valley and seeing Bob and Jack get away, and the others had no thought of denying him. So all four, bearing the oil torches kept in the cave by Stone for the purpose of lighting the landing field at night, descended from the cave. Tom Bodine was left to guard the two prisoners. These had again suffered the ignominy of having their hands tied, after they had undressed, and, wrapped in the rubber ponchos given them by Bob, they had flung themselves down on the pallet prepared the previous night by the boys. Stationed in the outer entrance of the cave, Tom Bodine looked around at the two prone forms several times. But always they lay motionless under their ponchos, and there seemed no cause for suspicion regarding them. Poor fellows, thought Tom, who held no particular animosity against them, they had had a hard time of it lately. After landing from a flying trip, they had been set upon and beaten. Then, made prisoner, they had spent the intervening hours cramped in bonds and in doubt as to what their captors intended doing with them. Probably were tired out and asleep by now, thought Tom. He even tiptoed over to where they lay and found, as he had expected, that both had their eyes closed and were breathing heavily. Returning to the entrance, Tom took a step or two forward so as the better to see past the big rock outside and thus get a clearer view of the airplane. The boys had reached it by now, the oil flares were planted to both sides, and it was illuminated, standing out in the tossing light like a great bird. As the propeller began to whirl, Tom took another step or two forward. An airplane was a new puzzle to him, and he was so interested in watching it get under way that he forgot his trust, forgot he had prisoners to watch, forgot everything but the mystery of that piece of mechanism, that gigantic bird, running bumpily now over the ground and now beginning to lift into the air, and now—— Tom whirled about. The old instinct of the man who lives much in the open, telling him danger is close at hand, was stirring at the roots of his hair. But he was just a trifle too late. As he faced about, a form shot out of the cave and Tom, totally unprepared for attack, was bowled over. As he fell he let out a great wordless cry, thinking to warn Frank and Roy Stone. Then the butt of a revolver descended on his head.     <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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