“Oh, Dave! are you sure?”
“Of course I am! I would know my Uncle 284 Dunston as far as I could see him. And you ought to know Ben.”
“My gracious, Dave, you’re right! This sure is luck!”
“I know what I’m going to do,” decided our hero, quickly. “I’m going to send both of the boats adrift. Then, no matter what happens, those rascals won’t have any easy time of it getting back to Mexico.”
In feverish haste Dave sent the flat-bottomed boat out into the creek once more. Roger assisted him, and a few strokes of the oars brought the craft alongside of that which had been used by the Porton party. Then the chums leaped ashore, threw all the oars into the water, and set both of the rowboats adrift.
“Hi there! What are you fellows up to?” came suddenly from Packard Brown, who had happened to look behind him. “See, Jarvey, those two fellows have cast our boat adrift!”
“Who are they?” demanded Jarvey Porton, and looked in some bewilderment at the two figures approaching, each with a handkerchief tied over the lower portion of the face.
“Uncle Dunston! Ben!” cried Dave at the top of his lungs, and at the same time whipped the handkerchief from his face. “Here are Ward Porton and his father! We must capture them!”
“Hurry up! Don’t let them get away!” put in Roger, as he, too, uncovered his face.