"That is what the signals said! When I left Don Miguel in charge of the secret service men at San Jose and came back into the hills to find you, I left word with the men to climb to the top and signal if the news came that the arms had been stopped. I don't know just how they got the news, but it is undoubtedly reliable. The arms are in Uncle Sam's possession. The rag-tag-and-bob-tail-of-creation fellows we have seen skulking about here will have to go away without a fight."
"That is too bad!" grunted Frank. "I wanted to see a raid!"
"It is better as it is," replied Nestor.
"And the signals told me something else," continued the lieutenant. "Something about your end of the case," he added, turning to Fremont.
"About Mr. Cameron?" asked the boy, excitedly. "He is—"
"In his right mind again, and knows who struck him."
Then the Black Bears and the Wolves joined hands and actually danced about the old hut until it seemed about to collapse. The secret service men looked on and smiled at the sight of so much happiness. Then Fremont asked:
"And he will live?"
"There is no doubt of it," was the reply. "I do not know the details, for one rocket told me that he was in his right mind again, and another that he would live."
"Then we can all go back to New York and get ready for the trip down the river!" said Jimmie. "You fellers can ride on cushions and I'll hoof it."