“I hope we have better luck getting in on this mine than we did on their gold mine,” said Pender.
“Well, rather!” put in Dalsett.
“Leave it to me,” went on Noddy. “I have a plan. And now do you fellows want to stay here all night or travel in the auto?”
“Stay here,” murmured Bilette. “It is warm and comfortable. One can smoke here.” Then, as if that settled it, he rolled himself up in his blanket, and, with a last puff on his cigarette, he went to sleep on the floor.
In a little while the others followed his example. Bilette slept better than any one, for he seemed to be used to the hordes of fleas that infested the hut.
As for Noddy, he awakened several times because of the uncomfortableness of his bed. Finally he got up and went out to sit up the rest of the night on the cushioned seats of the automobile.
So far, the Nixon crowd had done nothing but ride on a sort of pleasure trip through Mexico. Noddy had managed to get some cash from home, and, with what Dalsett obtained by gambling, they managed to live.
Shortly after crossing the Rio Grande River, Noddy had fallen in with a slick Mexican, Vasco Bilette by name, and had added him to his party. Bilette knew the country well, and was of considerable assistance. He seemed to have no particular occupation. Some evenings, when they would be near a large town, he would disappear. He always turned up in the morning with plenty of cash. How he got it he never said.
But once he returned with a knife wound in the hand, and again, limping slightly from a bullet in the leg. From which it might be inferred that Vasco used other than gentle and legitimate means of making a livelihood. But Noddy’s crowd was not one that asked embarrassing questions.