"Why, to tell you the truth, I don't believe Uncle Mark cared much for President Diaz, because he had lots of trouble at times with the people in power. And later on, when Madero went into Mexico to turn things upside-down, I guess uncle helped him a whole lot. Anyway, I've heard him say he admired Madero a heap, and that they were good friends. Why, after Diaz lit out for Spain, Uncle Mark was so dead sure things would run smooth down there that he left his ranch in charge of a man he believed he could trust, and started on the trip to Africa that he'd been staving off for ever so long. And he says he must have just missed the news that Madero had been killed, and that another president was in the chair. If he'd known that, he would never have made his dive into the heart of Africa, but hurried back home."
"Then he looks on Huerta as anything but a friend; is that it?" asked Rob.
"He's afraid the present Government is following along the same paths Diaz made, and that everybody who was hand in glove with Madero must come under the ban," Tubby went on to say with considerable importance, as though he might be coining some of these phrases himself, when, truth to tell, he only repeated them, parrot-like, after his uncle.
"Now, that's something we would have to know," said Rob. "But tell us, has your uncle had any word from his ranch since he came back?"
"Not a whisper," Tubby assured him. "You see, things are in such a whirl down over the border right now that letters never get to their destinations; and as for a wire message being delivered, it isn't possible in a year."
"Then Uncle Mark doesn't know whether he has any cattle left on his ranch to-day, or if it's just a howling wilderness, with every beef run off, and the buildings burned to the ground. Is that the way it stands, Tubby?"
"Er—yes, I suppose it is," admitted the fat scout slowly. "And you see, it's to find out the truth, for one thing, that he wants somebody to go down there and cross over into Mexico. Then, if everything is lovely and the goose hangs high, that messenger will be given authority to dispose of every head of cattle so as to fetch as big a fistful of money back here as he can."
Rob shook his head, while the other three who were eagerly watching his face looked keenly disappointed. The signs seemed to point to an adverse decision in the matter by the patrol leader.
"It appears to be even worse than what I called it first—a wild goose chase," Rob presently pursued. "For months and months now there have been all kinds of fighting around that section of country, if half we see in the papers is true: first with the Government forces ahead, and then the rebels clearing out everything, so that a hostile army couldn't live off the land. It was just as Sheridan was ordered to do in the Valley of the Shenandoah, you remember. If the army of Huerta didn't carry off your uncle's prize stock, you can make sure the hungry rabble of that rebel general, Villa, must have gobbled it up long ago."
"Oh! but there is where uncle says he has his strongest hold!" exclaimed Tubby, his round face lighting up again with new hope.