"Then you don't know whether there's treasure there or not?" asked Jack.
"Wa'al, there's treasure there all right, no doubt o' that. That Spanish fellow—I told you how I helped him when he was dying—swore he didn't lie to me, and I believe him. But he hinted at there being some sort of difficulty in the way of getting at it. The breath of death, I think he called it. Guess he meant the greasers' garlic."
"I guess so," responded Jack; "how I wish that we could go with you right now and explore the secret tunnel."
"Wa'al, we've got to get in communication with the ranch first, and then we can get the greaser troops and get after that band of scallywags," said Pete.
"And we must be two days' ride from it now," sighed Jack. "In the meantime, what will be happening to the others?"
"That's the trouble," mused Pete, "if only we'd had a chance, we might have struck out and got the troops ourselves. But the greasers cut us off, and we're of more use here, even as out of the way as we are, than we would be in Black Ramon's clutches."
"Tell yer what," exclaimed Jim Hicks suddenly, "you don't hev ter ride all ther way to ther ranch."
"What's that?" asked Pete.
"No. I mean what I say. Use the telephone."
"What?"