“You—you’ve found out something?” he stammered eagerly.
“Yes,” answered Bob, “I have. I wanted to tell Mr. Whitney personally about it but as things are likely to happen right off, I think we’d better get busy without him.”
Rapidly Bob sketched out what he had learned during the past few days and related briefly the adventure that had befallen him the day before. As to Jerry’s part in the mix-up, he said as little as possible, but of course it could not be entirely hushed up. As Bob was talking, Mr. Taylor took the telephone receiver off the hook and called a number.
By the time his story was finished, a knock sounded on the door and it opened to let in Jenkins, the camp marshal.
“I just telephoned the marshal to come up as we were talking,” explained Mr. Taylor. “I want him to get those two cowboys if he can.”
“Won’t be much chance,” put in Bob, “if they’ve been to the hut. But if they were going to leave me there without food or water, perhaps you can get ’em.”
The engineer stated the case briefly so that the officer would understand.
“I’ll try to git ’em,” announced Jenkins. “I guess I better git the sheriff down to Las Cruces to call out a posse—”
“No, don’t do that,” put in Taylor. “This is a Federal job and we don’t want the county in on it. Go to it alone.”
Stolidly the man took his orders and stumped out. When he was gone Mr. Whitney’s assistant turned to Bob.