“The Constitutionalists have captured the town!” he responded hurriedly. “But really, Dick, there isn’t a bit of time for any other explanations just now!”
“I should say not!” chimed in Tom. Eager as the lad felt to learn about the experiences of Dick and Jimmy, he could not forget that the mission entrusted to him by Colonel Brookes Sylvester should be carried out before anything else was thought of.
Excitement was in the air. Every sound from the outside seemed to possess an ominous note that thrilled. In their fidgety movements, and their voices, which in spite of the most earnest efforts persisted in vibrating, the lads showed the effects of it all.
“I’ve got the finest bit of news for you, Jimmy!” exclaimed Tom. “I’ve met your uncle, Colonel Brookes Sylvester, and——” He stopped short, struck by a peculiar expression which sprang into the young pianist’s eyes. “Why—what’s the matter?”
“You met my uncle!” exclaimed Jimmy. “How—when?”
In a very few words the Rambler explained, and when he had finished both he and three others were astounded.
Jimmy, his face set and stern, was pacing up and down.
“I’m not going back to Texas—at least not just now!” he blurted out with savage earnestness.
“Not going back to Texas!” echoed Tom, in amazement. “I—I don’t understand.”
“I’ll make you! Oh, it’s all very well to try and smooth things over with soft palaver.” Jimmy the pianist was working himself into a passion. He spoke rapidly, snapping out his sentences in a jerky fashion. “The colonel notified the police, the Texas Rangers, and every one else in authority to arrest me. To arrest me—did you hear?” The last words came out like a shout.