“Now,” said Mr. Hampton, when he had departed, “this is a pretty kettle of fish.”
“‘Kettle of fish?’” Rafaela looked inquiry.
“Some more slang,” laughed Jack. “Dad is worse than I. He means here is a lot of trouble.”
The maid now appeared with a great silver pitcher and a tray of glasses, a little table was pulled forward, and about it all four sat, sipping limeade, and discussing the news brought by Pedro.
“I don’t think it would be worth while to question that fellow, Pedro, again,” said Mr. Hampton, finally, after the situation had been thrashed over. “He’s told us all he’s going to tell. And I don’t see, Rafaela, that there is anything we can do. Your father knows his own business, and I consider he is pretty well able to take care of himself. As far as I can see, this fellow Ramirez, whoever he is, is preparing to stir up trouble, and your father is trying to stop him. Jack and I are Americans, and we can’t very well take a hand in a Mexican family row.”
Jack looked disappointed. Nothing would have suited him better than to step into his plane and fly southward in search of Don Ferdinand for the purpose of placing himself and his airplane at the latter’s disposal. Still, his father was right.
“However, Rafaela,” he supplemented, “I’m going to see that your radio station is in good running order before I leave, and you must tell your boy to keep in touch with me. Then, if you want us in a hurry, we’ll be at your command.”
That evening Pedro set out at dusk with twelve mounted and heavily armed men at his back. They were the pick of the young fellows about the place. Standing a little apart from Mr. Hampton and Donna Ana, Jack and Rafaela watched the departure. Pedro rode up for final instructions.
“Tell my father to be careful,” said Rafaela. She was worried, but held her head high, exhibiting the same firey spirit of her father. The ghost of a smile came to her lips. “Not that he will heed,” she said.
“And, Pedro,” added Jack, “tell Don Ferdinand when you see him that if I can help with my airplane—for scouting—or—or something, why, to send a messenger here and have me called by radio.”