A PLOT AGAINST FUNSTON.

A muttered imprecation was the only intimation that the figure which had been so unceremoniously bundled into the closet was alive.

"Who are you?" asked Donald in Spanish.

"Let me out of this," was the unsatisfactory response in English.

"Oh!" from Donald. "You are an American. Well, keep still and I'll help you to get rid of the blanket."

He grabbed hold of the covering and the newcomer was soon uncovered.

"Now, then, who are you?" asked Donald again.

"I'll show you who I am if I get hold of you," was the uncivil answer, and an arm shot out.

"Now look here," said Donald, "if you don't stop that I'll let daylight through you. We are in a bad box and the only thing to do is to make the best of it."

"We?" exclaimed the newcomer. "Why do you say we?"

"Because I am a prisoner the same as you are. Now, who are you?"

"I'm Lieutenant Grimes of the general's staff. Who are you?"

"I am Donald Mackay, on a special mission for Gen. Funston."

"How did they get you?"

"Kidnaped me on the street. How did they get you?"

"Same way. I had just left the general's quarters."

"I can see that some one might want to capture you, lieutenant, but I cannot see what they want of me."

"How long have you been here?" asked the lieutenant.

"About half an hour. By the way, are you armed?"

"No; they took away my weapons. How about you?"

"I have my automatic. I'd have used it when you came in, only you were dumped in so suddenly."

"What do you suppose the game is?"

"I don't know; but we'll find out. I've been in tighter places than this—but no hotter," after a pause.

"Have you tried to get out?"

"Yes; but it was too hot work. The door seemed pretty strong."

"Perhaps the two of us might force it," suggested Grimes. "I'm a pretty husky chap."

"We might try," replied Donald. "The place is so narrow we can get a good brace."

They put their feet against the opposite wall and pushed against the door.

"We'll never make it that way," said the lieutenant. "We'll have to throw ourselves at it."

"Not much room for that, Lieutenant, but you give the word and we'll have a try."

Getting their bearings as well as they could in the dark, they drew themselves back and then literally threw themselves at the door. It gave way with a snap and both fell to their feet on the outside.

Quick as a flash they were on their feet, Donald with his weapon ready for instant action.

But there was no one in sight.

"That's mighty funny!" exclaimed the lieutenant. "Lock two strong men up in a place like that and not guard it."

"It's a mighty good thing for us they didn't," laughed Donald. "I wonder where we are?"

He glanced about the room which was dimly lighted by a couple of lamps, fastened to the wall by brackets. It was well—yes, elegantly furnished. At one side of the room was the closet out of which they had just emerged, while at the opposite side were three doors. On a third side were two windows and the fourth side was a plain wall.

"Not a bad-looking place," observed the lieutenant.

"Not at all," echoed Donald, "and there seem plenty of means of exit."

"Sure, my boy; and if it's all the same to you, we'll go. The sooner I get back the quicker I'll be able to start something in this direction. Come on!"

They crossed over to the doors and tried the first one. It was locked. They tried the second and it opened into another closet.

"Three times and out," laughed Donald as he took hold of the knob of the last door.

It yielded to his touch and he opened it gently. Then he quickly and quietly closed it.

"What's up?" asked the lieutenant.

Donald put his fingers to his lips.

"How many?" queried Lieut. Grimes.

"Three," was the whispered response. "Let's hear what they have to say."

He opened the door a crack, through which they could see three men seated at a table. One wore the uniform of a Mexican officer, the other was dressed in Mexican costume, while the third was unquestionably an American, although they could only see his back.

"I have carried out my part of the agreement," the American was saying, "and now I want my money."

"How do we know you have?" asked the officer.

"Haven't I put Gen. Funston into your hands?"

"We are not sure it is Funston," said the other.

"Then bring him out and look at him. You know the general when you see him, don't you?"

"I think so, although I've never seen him but once."

"Well, that is he, all right," declared the American.

Donald turned and looked at his companion. Then he chuckled.

The lieutenant said nothing, but stroked his whiskers which he wore in exact imitation of his chief.

"Lucky for the general," he whispered, and Donald nodded his head that he understood.

The two Mexicans exchanged a few words under their breath which Donald could not hear and then the officer took from his breast pocket a large wallet, from which he counted out ten bank notes. They were yellow backs and Donald was not at all surprised when the officer said:

"Here are ten one-thousand-dollar bills in American money. We believe you are telling us the truth, as your words are corroborated by the men who brought him here. But if you are playing us false, we shall know how to reach you."

The American shrugged his shoulders as he took the bills, rolled them up nonchalantly and placed them in his trousers pocket.

"You can find me at the Hidalgo Hotel whenever you want me," he said, "and now I must be going."

He arose from his seat, and as he did so, Donald caught sight of his face. It was the mountebank, Strong, but in his stylish clothing Don had failed to recognize him.

"Great Scott!" he muttered to himself, "the plot thickens!"

"What's that?" queried the lieutenant, who caught the muttered exclamation.

"Nothing much," replied Donald as the three men walked toward a door in the farther end of the room and he was enabled to speak without being heard, "only that is the man I'm looking for. Let's get out of the window and see if we can't head him off."

He closed the door and turned the key which he had quietly taken from the other side.

The windows were open and they looked out. They were on the side of the house overlooking a good-sized lawn.

"That's the reason they are not barred," explained Donald. "Had they been front windows, we might as well have been in jail. You go first and I'll cover the retreat."

Lieut. Grimes sprang into the window and lowered himself to the ground, just as a hand turned the knob.

"Good-bye!" muttered Donald. "Sorry I can't wait to receive you," and he followed the lieutenant.

On the ground they could hear the men trying to open the door and as they sped across the lawn toward a high brick wall, the door gave way with a crash and they could hear surprised voices.

"They have discovered our wreckage!" cried Donald. "Over the wall you go!"

"You first this time," said the lieutenant.

"No, you first. I can boost you up, but I couldn't pull you. You can pull me."

The argument was good and the lieutenant acted upon it.

A minute later he was on top of the wall.

"Great Cæsar!" he exclaimed. "There's nothing under me but water."

"Never mind that," was the response. "Haul me up."

The lieutenant leaned down and gave the lad a hand.

"Here we are," he said a minute later. "We can't jump in, for there is no knowing where we are."

"Sure," from Donald. "Let's run along the wall."

This they did for about a hundred yards and then the wall ended abruptly against what appeared to be an abutment.

"We must act quickly," declared Donald. "They think you are Funston and won't hurt you. Keep up the deception. I'm going to swim for it. I'll have help here just as quick as I can. So long," and, throwing off his coat, he jumped into the water some twenty feet below.


CHAPTER XXVII.