“Someone is coming!” he whispered. “I’ve got to hide!” and he made a dive under the cot.
[CHAPTER XXII]
THE PAWN TICKETS
“Well, I’m certainly going to be in a nice pickle if that’s Mendez coming back,” thought Tom, as he gave the blanket on the cot a surreptitious pull to better conceal his person. “I guess I was seven kinds of a chump to come here. I ought to have told the fellows, and then one of them could have done sentry duty for me. As it is, if anyone comes in here I’m as good as caught. A nice story it will make, too—a Randall man found in a caretaker’s shack.”
He listened intently, and heard the approaching steps pause outside the door. Then came a key rattling in the lock.
“Just my luck,” murmured Tom. “It’s Mendez coming back. That job didn’t last as long as I thought it would, or else he’s forgotten something. Whew! If he sees me there’ll be a fight all right. He’ll take me for a burglar, sure, or else he’ll know why I’m here. I wonder if all Mexicans carry knives? There isn’t much here for a fellow to defend himself with.”
Tom peered out from under the cot, and made up his mind, if worst came to worst, that he would roll out, and grab up the heavy stove poker he saw.
“That will make a pretty good club,” he reasoned. “Hang it all! why didn’t I tell the fellows? If this Mendez does me up he may hide my body here, and the fellows will never know what became of me. I ought to have told them—and yet I did it this way to keep Ruth’s secret. I meant it for the best.”