Then a slight chugging sound informed O’Hara that the motor car with its Jap chauffeur was again on its way to the house, doubtless to carry the German emissary toward the border. The front door opened, a single dark figure glided out, the tonneau door closed, and the huge machine rolled rapidly away. Then, silence.
Quivering from the astounding adventure through which he had just passed, O’Hara made his way back to his sleeping-room. He hastily shed the few light garments that covered him and sank into bed, but the amazing events of the night were too recent to allow any hope of sleep.
In the quiet of the night, as he reviewed his experiences from the day of his arrival at the ranch, O’Hara was able to understand many things that hitherto had seemed to border on the mysterious. The remembrance of his first meeting with Henry Brown, the military bearing of the latter, the careful diction with just the merest trace of a German accent, the nightly comings and goings of the Japanese chauffeur, the aloofness and secrecy that characterized the actions of every member of the ranch from the very beginning—all these things, when analyzed in the light of the conversation he had overheard between Brown and his visitor, lost their cloak of mystery and became links in a chain of evidence that held fast at every point.
The more O’Hara thought of it, the more certain he became that he had stumbled across that long-sought-for outpost of German intrigue that was beneath so many of the Mexican troubles. For many months Uncle Sam had known of the existence of such activity, but diligent search had failed to trace it to its source. Throughout the war, reports poured into the government concerning the operations of a crafty German band that was engaged in sowing seeds of hatred against the Americans. Though the armistice had brought a decided let-up in this activity, there was still evidence of a deeply-laid plot to injure the United States and libel its aims in the Latin republic.
CHAPTER XXII
THE CAVE
The morning of the next day O’Hara went about his chores as usual, at the same time keeping a sharp lookout for any suspicious signs that might betray the further plans of his employer.
About three-thirty in the afternoon he was just leaving the kitchen when he was surprised to hear the voices of Brown and Tom Whalen raised in rather an excited discussion.
“Yes, Jo had definite word that the officers suspected O’Hara’s presence here,” said the voice of Brown.
“Oh, let ’em catch him then,” replied Tom Whalen gruffly, “I’m tired of watching him anyhow.”