“I doubt Mr. Livingston will pull out while his friend is held captive by bandits. Odd isn’t it, that there’s been no ransom demand in so many days?”
“Nothing odd about it,” Rhodes retorted. “Corning’s probably dead. Carlos is without heart, cruel and vicious.”
“Why not organize a party and track him down?”
“He’d elude us. No, the only thing to do is to be patient and see what develops.”
Jack made no reply, although Rhodes’ views displeased him. He had tried to hide his anger at being offered a bribe. Nevertheless, he was more than ever convinced that Rhodes wanted to get the Scouts away from the mine to prevent them from learning important facts about Corning’s kidnapping.
Thinking it over, he decided to make his own investigation by talking to some of the miners. No opportunity presented itself, however. Whenever he approached a workman, Rhodes quickly arrived upon the scene.
Biding his time, Jack waited until nightfall. Then, slipping away from the Scout tent, he stole to the thatched roof shack of Phillipe, the man Rhodes had struck.
A soft tap on the door brought the miner to the door. Suspiciously, he gazed at Jack.
“Amigo—friend,” Jack assured him. In halting Spanish he asked to be admitted.
The man allowed him to enter the barren hovel. Laboriously, Jack tried to make him understand that he sought information about Mr. Corning.