Tom nodded. The next moment he drew his heavy automatic revolver and remarked in loud tones:
"My gun needs cleaning. I'm going to empty it through the tent where that bulge is--look out, Ned."
The bulge against the canvas disappeared as if by magic, and the sound of some one crawling or creeping away could be heard outside. Tom laughed.
"You see how it is," he said. "We can't even think aloud."
"Bless my collar button; who was it?" asked Mr. Damon.
"Some of Delazes's men--or himself," replied the young inventor. "But I guess I scared him."
"Maybe it was Andy Foger," suggested Ned with a smile.
"No, I guess we've lost track of him and his father," spoke Tom. "I've kept watch of the back trail as much as I could, and haven't seen them following us. Of course they may pick up our trail later and come here, and they may join forces with the Mexicans. But I don't know that they can bother us, once we're off in the balloon."
To Tom's disappointment, the next day proved stormy, a heavy rain falling, so it was impossible to test the balloon with the gas. The camp was a disconsolate and dreary place, and even Eradicate, usually so jolly, was cross and out of sorts.
For three days the rain kept up, and Tom and Ned thought they would never see the last of it, but on the fourth morning the sun shone, wet garments and shoes were dried out, tents were opened to the warm wind and everyone was in better spirits. Tom and his chum at once set about making gas for the big bag, their operations being closely watched by the Mexicans.