The old adobe was flat-roofed and one-storied, as usual. They found chinks in the shuttered windows. No fire was to be seen; the smoke came from an underground room; the hunt was over.
Billy plucked Pringle by the sleeve and bent over, clasping Leo in a fond embrace. After wordless investigation of this human stairway, by sense of touch, Pringle stepped from Billy’s back to Ballinger’s broad shoulders, and so wriggled to the roof with noiseless caution.
After an hour-long infinity he reappeared, bulked black and startling against the starlight; descended, led his little flock to the safety of the open playa by the river bank and made exultant oration:
“Jeff’s there! Having the time of his life! Chimney goes straight down; I could hear every word they said. They’re a clever gang of all-round crooks, counterfeiters, smugglers and what-not. Thorpe is the brains. They have a stand-in with some of the police and officials. This cellar was used as a warehouse for storing Chinamen, to be smuggled across in boatload lots. The other man on guard is fat, as we expected, and better looking than Borrowman. He was hopping mad at Borrowman for getting full and leaving him on guard overtime; threatened him with discipline, gave him a tongue-lashing—Jeff egging him on, enjoying himself very much and urging Borrowman not to stand such abuse. He wouldn’t trust Jeff to Borrowman till he was comparatively sober; cussed him again and made him turn in to sleep it off. So of course they’ll both be here all night.”
“Why, how can you tell that this other man is better looking than Borrowman?” asked George, puzzled. “You couldn’t possibly see him.”
“Suppose I didn’t—I’ve seen Borrowman, haven’t I?” retorted Pringle triumphantly.
“What else did you gather?” asked Billy.
“Well, not much except that we had it all figured out about right. They kept him there at first to make him join ’em. He wouldn’t, and what they are keeping him for instead of wiping him out I don’t just see. I’d sure hate to have to keep him. And now, boys, us for El Paso, U. S. A. No more to be done here to-night.”
“How are we going to get him out without getting him slightly killed?” demanded George. “I can sit down in an office and study things out, all right—I learned deduction from observing Hibler’s methods of settling up estates. But when it comes to violent action I don’t know which foot goes first.”
“Easiest thing there is,” said Pringle. “We’ll put him wise by a personal. To-morrow we’ll keep out of sight for a day to give him time to see it. We’ll get a hook, a line and a gun, wait till only one man is with Jeff, till Jeff is standing by the fire, and till he gives us the signal we mention in our little ad. Then we let the gun down the chimney to him and he’ll do the rest. Why, it’s the only way! There ain’t no other way, and couldn’t be. Two days more and the jig is strictly up. Let’s go home and sleep those two days.”