“How?” asked Jimmie.
“Why, the fellows who were sneaking the Chinamen across the Mexican border will tell him all right!” was the answer.
“Don’t you ever think they’ll tell him,” Ben broke in. “He won’t give them a chance to tell him anything! He’ll dodge them as if they had the small-pox.”
“That’s about right,” Jimmie agreed. “He’ll head straight for Phillips and Mendosa and tell them that there’s a red-headed boy who will cross their life-lines in about twenty-four hours!”
“I hope he doesn’t know where to find them!” Ben observed.
“He probably does,” Ben suggested.
“Say,” cried Jimmie dancing about on his toes, “I don’t believe he knows where they are any more than we do—nor half so much.”
“What’s the answer?” asked Ben.
“Do you remember the note Kit found in the barn where that monkey-faced aviator had his arm set?” asked Jimmie.
“That’s a fact!” exclaimed Ben. “Who’s got the note now?”