The Radio Boys were in the highest spirits, and Phil was kept busy telling his companions all the details of his capture and imprisonment.
“It made me sore,” he said, “to have them nab me before I could get back to camp and give you the tip on the ‘Muggs’ Murray gang. We could have caught them dead to rights and rounded them up without any trouble.”
“That’s queer,” muttered Dick, who at the time was scanning the landscape with his glasses.
“What’s queer?” asked Phil and Tom in the same breath.
“That auto,” replied Dick, passing the glasses over to Phil. “You don’t see many of them in this forsaken country. And whoever’s at the wheel is driving like mad.”
“Coming as if the old boy were after them,” agreed Phil, focusing the glasses upon the machine. “From the direction of the border too. By the great horn spoon!” he shouted suddenly. “Do you know who’s in it? Muggs Murray and Rocks Gurney or I’m a Chinaman.”
“Go way,” exclaimed Tom unbelievingly.
“Sure as shooting,” persisted Phil. “The States must have got too hot for them and they’re making tracks into Mexico where they can’t be followed. Now’s our chance.”
With a great swoop he brought the plane to the ground and hurried up to Captain Bradley with the news. From the ground the car had not come into sight and was still several miles away.
A little way off was a clump of woodland through which ran the road along which the car was coming. A few sharp orders, and the troop of Rangers was deployed to the best advantage in the wood where they lay flat on the ground sheltered by the trees. To the casual eye there was no sign of life visible.