CHAPTER XX.
"TRUST ROB!"
When Andy said that, both Tubby and Merritt felt a cold chill pass over them. It could be easily understood that if those vindictive Regulars had a chance to fire on the unknown party who wore the khaki of the United States soldiers, and who, they must know, had been sending messages from the rock jutting out above, there was no reason to believe that they would have the least pity because he turned out to be a boy. There were many mere lads bearing arms among the followers of Villa and of President Huerta—there always are when revolution stalks through a land and war clouds are in the air—so that the taking of a boy's life did not mean anything unusual to these grim fighters.
But Merritt was alive to the importance of letting Rob know of the peril that was lying in wait for him on the back trail. If he slipped away and started to come down the side of the rugged slope, there was always a terrible chance that he might know nothing of the three Mexican Regulars lying under the rocks like genuine bushwhackers, ready to pour a deadly volley in his direction as soon as they felt that he was in their grip.
"Quick, Tubby, try and attract his attention again—tell him for goodness' sake to wait up there and take another message!"
Merritt almost shrieked this as he sprang toward the fat chum. Tubby instantly started the human windmill in motion again, waving his flag at a great rate, and forming the signal "1111—3: Wait a moment," that would tell the boy on the crag there was still something of vast importance to be wigwagged to him.
"I can see him there yet!" said Andy, though his voice trembled as if he were quaking with suspense.
"Yes, but his back is this way!" groaned Tubby, still keeping busy with his flags.
Merritt even put his hands to his mouth and shouted the name of the patrol leader several times, as though hoping with this primitive megaphone to be able to attract the attention of the other; but apparently sounds did not travel upward as well as they do on the level ground. At any rate, they could not see Rob give the first sign of turning; and he seemed to be busy watching something beyond, perhaps the soldiers who were crawling through that little ravine under the railroad track, a mile or more away.
"What if he starts down without once looking this way?" asked Andy.