CHAPTER XXIII.
SOME UNEXPECTED ARRIVALS.
Nestor gazed into the pain-drawn face of the newcomer with a feelingakin to awe. There seemed something uncanny in the fellow being thereat all. Had there come some new and unexpected development, inconsequence of which he had been released by the secret service men? Orhad he managed to elude their vigilance? If the latter, had Don Migueland Felix also gained their freedom?
And how had the man succeeded in crossing the mountain in the weakenedcondition he was in? He was now so weak and faint from loss of bloodand long suffering that he dropped to the floor like a dead man. Hadhe escaped, or been released soon after the departure of the party forSan Jose, and spent the entire day among the crags and canyons? Theman on the floor seemed a trick of the imagination, or, at least, acase of mistaken identity.
Nestor did not believe that Lieutenant Gordon would release the fellowunder any circumstances. There was some mystery about his appearancethere that could only be solved by the man himself, and so suchrestoratives as the Boy Scouts carried in their camping outfits werehastily brought forth.
There were bandages and a small flask of brandy which had formed a partof many an outfit and had never been uncorked, and these were soon onthe floor by the side of the sufferer. The injury proved to be acompound fracture of the right leg, and Nestor shook his head gravelyas he inspected it. Little could be done save to force the shatteredbones back into place and bind the whole up firmly.
The acute pain of the operation and the stimulating drink that wasgiven him caused Scoby to open his eyes and, screaming with the agonyof the injury, look about the room. His pale features contorted withrage or some other strong emotion, as he looked upon the renegade. BigBob eyed the fellow malevolently.
"You chaps appear to know each other pretty well," Nestor said,glancing from one to the other. "It would be interesting to know whereand when, and under what circumstances, you last met."
The wounded men glared at each other but made no reply. Big Bob thenturned his head away with an exclamation of rage. Scoby pointed to thebrandy bottle and moved his white lips. Frank, who held the stimulant,asked a question with his eyes.
"Yes," Nestor said, "give him a stiff dose. He is about all in."
The drink was taken greedily, and in a few moments the fellow appearedto be gaining temporary strength. Then Nestor asked:
"Where are Don Miguel and Felix?"
"I know nothing about the foxy guy," growled the watchman.
"Then where is the Mexican?" was the next question.
Scoby fixed his gaze on the brandy flask longingly, and Nestor saw thathe was bargaining for another drink of the liquid.
"Very well," he said. "Tell me what I want to know, and you shall havemore."
"What do you want to know?" growled Scoby.
"How did you manage to escape from the secret service men?"
"We, Felix and I, got away while they were arranging for a boat tocross to San Jose. They chased us up the slope and fired at us, butthere were so many men in the hills that they did not care to follow usin."
"And Don Miguel?"
"We left him with the officers. He would not even try to get away."
"And why did your flight take this direction?" asked Nestor, glad thatthe diplomat was still in custody, where he would be obliged to give anaccount of his doings.
"We came to look for the mine," was the impatient reply.
"And you found it, and left Felix there?"
Scoby's haggard face again contorted with anger.
"There is no mine!" he almost shouted. "We have been on a fool errand!The map is a fake and a lie!"
The boys glanced at each other and smiled triumphantly. Scoby caughtthe expression on their faces and dropped back hopelessly.
"And so you found it?" he said, consternation as well as inquiry in hisvoice.
"Never mind that now," Nestor replied. "Where is the Mexican?"
"Dead!" was the startling and unexpected reply.
"You quarreled, then?" asked Nestor.
"He fell over a cliff," was the reply. "I tried to save him, but hedrew me over with him. I broke my leg and he broke his neck. Give methe flask!"
The request was complied with, and the fellow drank thirstily, thestrong liquor slipping down his throat like water. He passed the flaskback and closed his eyes. Then Big Bob, who had evidently beenlistening to the conversation, beckoned to Fremont. Wondering what thefellow could have to say to him, the boy approached the side of thedying man.
"You recall my asking bout your first meeting with Cameron?" Big Bobasked.
"Yes, and I wondered at it."
"There was a photograph in the Tolford envelope. Have you ever seenit?"
Fremont shook his head, wondering if the man was going out of his mind.He had often handled the papers, and had never come upon a photograph.
"There was one there," the other insisted. "When you get back to NewYork look it up. It will pay you to do so."
"Very well," replied the mystified boy, "but why talk of that at such atime?"
Big Bob regarded the boy questioningly, as if doubting his word.
"When the man of the photograph," he said, weakly, "was of your age, hemust have looked exactly as you look now. It is no wonder that Cameronrecognized in the newsboy the heir to the Tolford estate."
Fremont looked from Big Bob back to Nestor, then swept his eyes aroundthe circle of interested faces.
"He is raving!" the boy said. "What have I to do with the Tolfordestate?"
"There can be no mistake," the other declared, with a long pausebetween the words. "Cameron knew who you were, and that is why he tookyou into his own home; that is why the settlement of the estate wasdelayed year after year. He was waiting for you to come of age."
Jim Scoby was glaring at the speaker as if he thought to finish him bya look. The night watchman appeared to be waiting for some developmentwhich had not yet been put into words--possibly some revelationregarding the night of the crime.
Nestor saw the look and understood it. Fearful that Big Bob would nothave the strength to speak the words which appeared to be forming onhis lips, he bent over him and whispered:
"What about that night in the Cameron building? We can work out theproblem of the heirship later on. Tell us what took place in theCameron suite on the night you went there last--the night of the crime."
"Let him tell the truth, then!" almost shouted Jim Scoby. "Let himtell the thing as he found it!"
"So you saw him there that night?" asked Nestor, turning to Scoby.
"Let him answer!" was the rasping reply. "Only make him tell thetruth! He might put the crime on the wrong shoulders."
It was long after midnight now, and the storm had died out. Save foran occasional dash of rain and an infrequent roll of electricity overthe mountains, the night was normal, and here and there a star creptout to meet the coming dawn.
"I was in the Cameron building that night," Big Bob said, glancingpainfully in the direction of the night watchman. "I saw him there!"
"The fourth man!" whispered Frank, nudging Nestor with his elbow. "Thefourth man you have been talking about!"
The dying man opened his lips again, but did not speak, for voices wereheard outside, and then a sharp command was given. The order was toshoot if resistance was offered by those inside. Then the door wasthrown open and a bit of polished steel flashed in the light of thefire. The alarmed boys dropped the weapons they had drawn at a signalfrom Nestor.
The man in the doorway, wet, draggled, and exhausted with the exertionsof the night was Lieutenant Gordon, and back of his stalwart figure thelight showed a dozen armed men in plain clothes. Some of them, atleast, were known to Nestor.
"You are safe, then?"
With a sigh of relief the lieutenant dropped down on a rude bench thatstood against the wall and beckoned his men into the shelter of thehut. Then he noted the two men on the floor and turned inqu
iringly toNestor.
"Wait!" the latter said. "We shall have plenty of time forexplanations later on. This man is dying, and there is something hewishes to say."
The secret service men, standing before the fire and swarming over thetwo rooms, uncovered their heads and checked the questions on theirlips.
Again Fremont stooped over the big fellow, and again the lips opened,but again there came an interruption. A sharp report came from theoutside and Lieutenant Gordon hastened to throw the door open. Arocket was mounting the sky, its red light giving the floor of the huta tint of blood.
It was followed by another, and another, then the lieutenant steppedout and saw code signals flying in the night above the peaks to thewest!
Boy Scouts in Mexico; Or, On Guard with Uncle Sam Page 23