“No. And he say, this devil Ramirez, that he will put them across the Rio Grande tonight,” Don Ferdinand added.
“Boys,” said Captain Cornell, decisively. “That means work for us.”
The members of the Border Patrol nodded, their eyes bright. All but Captain Murray. “But Ramirez knows we’ll be on his trail,” he objected. “He knows we’re in it. Otherwise, Cornell, why did he capture you?”
“Huh. He was in that crowd in Nueva Laredo last night, when Don Ferdinand and the boys and I got together. Saw me stop Don Ferdinand and bring him back. Then he turned around and mixed in with the crowd. So he knew Don Ferdinand and I were acquainted. When he saw me examining his auto, out there in front of his house, or rather, Don Ferdinand’s stolen auto, he socked me. But—he doesn’t know I’m an aviator, or that you fellows who came to my rescue are aviators. I guess he’s still trying to figure out how you came to the rescue.”
Captain Murray’s brow cleared. “Good. Then he doesn’t know that the Border Patrol is on his trail. What a sweet surprise we’ll spring on him at Carana. We’ll take your ship and mine. I’ll telephone the field to warm ’em up—and they’ll be ready when we arrive.”
He turned to the room telephone. Jack halted him. “Tell them to warm my ship up, too, Captain, please,” he begged. “If I can’t get Don Ferdinand’s daughter by radio, I’ll have to fly over there.”
“One hundred and fifty miles,” interrupted Captain Cornell. “And dark in little more than an hour from now. You can’t do it, Jack. Night-flying is nothing for an inexperienced man to undertake.”
“We’ll see,” said Jack. “Anyway, you have my ship warmed up for me, please, Captain Murray.”
Leaving the room abruptly, with the remark that he would return in a short time, Jack went toward his own room on the same floor. A gabble of voices floated upstairs from the lobby, where the bull fight of the afternoon was under discussion. Frank and Bob, true comrades, followed him.
“What you going to do, Jack?”