CHAPTER VII.
SIGNALS ON THE MOUNTAIN.
Fremont saw that Frank was putting up a nervy battle with the man whohad seized him, and was in the act of going to his assistance whenFrank made a quick motion which seemed to bring every muscle in hisbody into action, and the Mexican shot into the air, landing, finally,on the back of his companion, and going to the floor with him.
The movement executed by the boy had been so lightning-like that noneof the details had been noted, yet Fremont recognized it as a clever jujitsu trick he had often seen the boys of the Black Bear Patrolpracticing. Frank laughed as the man seemed to spill off his roundfigure, and before the amazed and raging Mexican could get to his feetboth boys were off like the wind, followed at a distance by policemenwho had been called by the owner of the restaurant.
"We may as well circle back to the hotel now," Fremont said, as theybrought up on a corner to rest and catch their breath. "I'm anxiousabout Jimmie. We should never have left him there alone."
"If we go back to Jimmie without a cart-load of provisions," laughedFrank, "he'll call the police. Besides, I'm starving. Here's anotherfeed shop, so we may as well load up."
Fremont did not enter the place, but waited in a dark stairway forFrank to return with the food that was to be taken to Jimmie. WhenFrank showed up he was devouring a thick ham sandwich.
"Now we can face the lad," the boy laughed. "He'll be hungry, though."
When they came to within a block of the hotel, Fremont waited for hiscompanion to bring him news of the situation there. Much to hisrelief, he soon saw Shaw returning, accompanied by both Jimmie andNestor. And Jimmie was munching a great sandwich as he drew near tothe waiting boy.
"S-a-y!" Jimmie exclaimed, as the boys met and walked away together,apparently free of surveillance. "That was a fresh cop. Wanted togeezle me for a robber. If Ned hadn't come across just as he did,there'd 'a' been a scrap. Say, Ned," he added, turning to the patrolleader, "how did you get your stand-in with the soldiers? Wasn't thata colonel who talked the bull cop out of pinching both of us?"
"That was Colonel Wingate," was the reply. "I can't tell you anythingmore about the matter just now. Anyway, we've got our work cut out forus to-night. We must be far from the border by morning. There's atrain from Juarez about midnight."
There were many questions which Fremont wanted to ask Nestor as theboys, each busy with his own thoughts, crossed the bridge, after givinga password supplied by Colonel Wingate, and took train at Juarez forSan Jose, but he remained silent. He wanted, among other things, toask why they were going to San Jose so directly--as if the town hadbeen the object of the journey from the beginning. He saw, however,that Nestor, who was becoming a good deal of a mystery to him, did notcare to talk, and so he held his tongue.
Long before noon on the following day, after a comfortless ride on abumping train, the boys found themselves at San Jose, a scraggly townon the west shore of beautiful Lake de Patos. As they were both hungryand tired, they secured rooms in a little hotel, ordered dinner servedthere, and rested for a short time. The dinner was plentiful, butthoroughly Mexican. The menu smelled of garlic, and the walls of theroom were decorated (?) with cheap colored prints wherein matadorscalmly awaited the onslaught of maddened bulls, while women, shroudedin mantillas and smoking cigarettes, leaned out of their seats andapplauded.
After the siesta, provisions were brought and enclosed in neat packagesconvenient for carrying on the back, and at dusk, after a swift rowacross the lake, the boys were at the foot of a high range of mountainswhich looked down upon the lake and the town.
On their way across the lake, and on the gentle slope of the foot ofthe hills, they had frequently observed parties of roughly dressed men,some with muskets and some without, making their way, by boat and onfoot, toward the mountain. Those on the water were in rude, makeshiftboats, of which there seemed to be an insufficient quantity at hand,groups waiting on the shore for the return of conveyances in order thatthey might in turn be carried across.
There was great excitement in the little town, and men, women andchildren were huddled in the streets, looking apprehensively at therough men who were hurrying, for some unknown reason, to the east.Finally two men who appeared to know something of the English languageasked Nestor for a ride in the rather swift boat he had secured for thetrip across the lake. This request was gladly granted, for Nestor wasanxious to talk with some one who might be able to tell him somethingof the movement to the east. He had his own suspicions of the motiveof the march, and they were not agreeable ones.
The men taken into the boat proved to be ignorant, sullen fellows, andso little information of the kind sought was gained from them.Presently the boat was left behind and the boys, each with a typicalBoy Scout camping outfit on his back--the same includingprovisions--were soon making their way up the slope.
"Jere!" cried Jimmie, throwing himself on the ground after the firststeep climb. "Let's wait for the elevator. What do you expect to findup here, anyway?"
"We're looking for a place to hide a boy, for a lost mine, and for aMexican with one leg shorter than the other and a withered right hand,"laughed Nestor. "Move on."
"That description listens to me like the Mexican we saw in therestaurant," said Shaw. "He had a withered right hand. Say, but hegot a drop."
"He looked to me like a man I have seen in New York," said Fremont. "Iwonder if there is any one left in New York?" he added, with a grin."It seems to me that about all the people I ever knew there are ontheir way south."
"This fellow may be fascinated by our good looks," Frank put in. "Heseems to be in need of polite society."
"Polite society!" repeated Jimmie. "You give him a dump on the floorfor polite society. Is he the man who is lookin' for the mine yousefellers have been talkin' about ever since we left El Paso?"
"If we should follow him to the mine," George suggested, "and arresthim there, that ought to end the case. It would end the mystery,anyway, and show why the assault was made. I guess you have been afterthis man all the way down, Nestor," he added.
"When he hasn't been after me," laughed the patrol leader. "But youmustn't be too certain that the arrest of this man would end the case.He may be after the mine, may even have a copy of the description inMr. Cameron's office, and yet be entirely innocent of the crime."
"He ought to be pinched for trying to geezle me in the eats house,"grinned Frank.
The boys ascended the slope until darkness set in, and then rested in alittle valley, or dent, between two peaks, and pitched their two smallshelter tents. Then they built a fire of such light wood as they couldfind and prepared supper. As soon as the meal was cooked they put outthe fire, fearful that the smoke might betray their presence there.Presently Jimmie called attention to two columns of smoke rising highup on the mountain.
"They're signals," he said, "because there wouldn't be two camp-firesclose together. They're signals, all right."
"What do they mean?" asked Nestor, with a smile.
"One column means come to camp," replied Jimmie, "two mean that help isneeded, three mean that there is good news, and four mean come togetherfor a council. They are Indian signals, and the Boy Scouts use them inthe woods when out hunting."
"Then this means a call for help," said Fremont.
"That's what," from Jimmie.
"It may mean for the man with the short leg to come on," laughed Frank."I wish I had my drum. I could make him think he had help coming. Youwait until I get that drum. I'll show you what's what."
Lights could now be seen moving on the mountain. It seemed clear thatmen were massing there for some purpose. Soon Frank and Jimmie wereasleep. Then Nestor asked:
"George, do you remember whether the bolt in the corridor door of theCameron suite turned under your key that night? In other words, wasthe door locked?"
"I thought it was," was the reply.
"But you are not certain?"
"No, because I was dazed
when I opened the door and found the room darkand still. I had expected to find Mr. Cameron at his desk, as therewere lights there before I entered the building."
"You saw no one on the stairs?"
"Not a soul."
"When did you first meet Mr. Cameron?"
"Seven years ago, when I was selling newspapers."
"He was a customer?"
"Yes, and a good one. He talked with me quite a lot, and finally askedme to come to live with him and take a position in his office when Igot older."
"And you were glad to go?"
"Naturally. My life was not a pleasant one."
"Did he ever talk to you about that old life?"
"Often. He asked me lots of questions about my parents."
"And what did you tell him?"
"There was noting to tell. I could not remember my parents. At firstthere was Mother Scanlon, who beat me as often as she fed me, and thenI was on the streets, sleeping in alleys and stairways."
"Have you seen this Mother Scanlon lately?" was the next question.
"Never, but why are you asking me all these questions? I'm no fairyprince under enchantment. Just a waif left alone in New York. Thereare plenty such."
"I want you to look Mother Scanlon up when you get back to New York,"Nestor said. He might have given some reason for the remark, onlyJimmie and Frank awoke and called attention to signals on the mountain.
"I know that wig-wag game," the latter said. "Keep still and I'll tellyou what he says."
Four pair of eyes were instantly fixed on the heights above, where aslender column of flame, like a torch on fire most of its length, wasplainly to be seen. It was not a stationary column, however, for itmoved to right and left in an arc of ninety degrees, starting atvertical and swinging back of it. At times the point was lowered, asif the column had been dipped to the ground in front.
"If he is talking United States instead of Spanish," Jimmie said, "I'llread it for you. The Scouts use those signals. The motion fromvertical to right is ONE, that from vertical to left is TWO, and thatfrom vertical to the front is THREE. See! It is United States, forthere are two left motions, meaning A. Now there's two twos and a one,repeated. That means two 1's. 'All' is the word."
"That is the way I read it," said Nestor.
"Wait," said Jimmie. "He didn't give the signal which indicates theend of the word. Here's one two and two ones. That means R. One one isI. Two twos and two ones make G. One one and two twos make H. Onetwo makes T. There! He's said 'All Right,' and in English. Now, whatare Americans doing up there?"
"That may not be the end of the message," suggested Fremont.
"See the three threes?" asked Jimmie. "That means the end of thesentence. Now, there's double two, double two, double two, triplethree. That means for the other fellow, who must be down the mountainsomewhere, to quit signaling. He's gettin' exclusive, eh?"
"I don't understand why those signals are in English," said Nestor."There are plenty of Americans mixed up in this mess, but they are notdoing the signaling, so far as I have heard. It would seem that thewig-wag ought to be in Spanish. I wonder if I could get down themountain to the man there? It would be easier than climbing."
"I'll go with you," decided Frank. "If I fall it will be like rollinga feather bed down the mountains. Besides, you may need assistance."
And before the others could protest, the two boys were on their waydown the steep descent.
Boy Scouts in Mexico; Or, On Guard with Uncle Sam Page 7