“Great guns.” The excited Captain Cornell stared incredulously at his informant. “Why’d this doctor call you?”
“Good friend o’ mine. Knows I got a grudge to settle with Ramirez. Wanted to know if there was any warrant out for him. Doc Garfield, he’s an old-timer. Knows these Border ruffians, most of ’em, by sight, anyways.”
“And you told him—”
“Tol’ him? What could I tell him? Tol’ him they was no warrants out that I knew of. But I was on my way to light out for Garfield’s when I see you come inta the lobby. Jist hung up the ’phone.”
“Hannaford, listen. No, wait a minute. My friends must hear of this. Oh, shucks, come with me. That’s the best way.”
Captain Cornell seized the old ex-Ranger by an arm and half-urged, half-drew him out of the lobby to the street.
CHAPTER XXII.
TO THE RESCUE.
Two taxicabs and the big touring car from the aviation field, his friends in them and anxious to go, stood at the curb as Captain Cornell with Hannaford beside him, came down the steps.
“Snap into it, Cornell,” called Captain Murray, impatiently. “Get into one of the taxis. We’re loaded.”
He stepped on the starter and the big car began to roar. Captain Cornell cleared the sidewalk in one jump, and landed on the running board. “Stop your engine. I’ve got news.”