"I see that Chinese-looking guy that wanted the message catching us if we go back in an automobile!" Jimmie laughed.
"But a motor car," Jack interrupted, "is an easy thing to wreck on a mountain."
"What do you think was in that dispatch?" Jimmie asked of Jack, as they sat in the telegraph office waiting.
"Something which brings out motor cars and secret service men," Jack answered. "I guess it made a hit at Washington."
"Perhaps he wired that he was going to bring the prince in!" laughed Jimmie. "Well, if he did, he'll do it, and that's all I've got to say about it."
Twice that evening a dark face appeared at the window of the telegraph office and peered in at the boys. Each time the owner of the dark face hastened away after a short inspection of the lads and conferred with two men in a dark little hotel office.
Shortly after ten o'clock two great touring cars, long, lean racers, ran up to the curb in front of the telegraph office and stopped. The street was now well-nigh deserted, but what few people were still astir gathered around the machines.
There were three husky men in each machine, and in each car was room for one more person. Only one man alighted and entered the office. When he saw the boys waiting he beckoned to them.
"Got your cipher?" he asked, and Jack nodded.
"Then come along. We'll get to the high climb before the moon comes up."