Dave Porter and His Double Part 38

A STRANGE DISCOVERY

As nearly as Dave and Roger could calculate, there were about two hundred of the Mexican guerrillas--dirty and fierce-looking individuals, led by an officer wearing an enormous hat and a long, drooping mustache.

The entire crowd looked disreputable in the extreme, and the youths could not help but shudder as they gazed at the cavalcade.

"My gracious, Dave! do you call those revolutionists?" remarked Roger, after the last of the hors.e.m.e.n had disappeared down the roadway.

"They may be revolutionists, Roger. But to my mind they look more like bandits than anything else. Under the pretense of aiding Mexico they probably steal whenever they get the chance."

"I'd hate awfully to fall into their clutches. I think they'd rob a fellow of every dollar he had."

"Well, never mind those Mexicans, Roger," pursued Dave. "Come on, let us see if we can't locate Ward Porton."

"He went over into one of yonder buildings."

"I know it, and I've got an idea," answered our hero. "Let us see if we can't sneak across the roadway without being seen and then come up to those buildings through the thick gra.s.s and behind that chaparral.

If we expose ourselves Porton will, of course, keep out of our sight or run away."

With extreme caution the two chums worked their way through the tall gra.s.s to the edge of the roadway. Then, watching their chance when n.o.body seemed to be looking, they dashed to the other side and into the gra.s.s again. Then they began to work their way cautiously in the direction of the group of buildings into which the former moving-picture actor had disappeared.

The buildings belonged to a Mexican ranch; but the place had evidently been the scene of a fight at some time in the past, for one of the buildings was completely wrecked and several of the others much battered. There were no horses, cattle, pigs, or chickens anywhere in sight; and the youths came to the conclusion that the ranch had been abandoned by its owner.

"Probably some of those guerrillas came along and cleaned him out,"

observed Dave, "and after that he didn't think it would be worth while to stay so long as the country was in a state of war."

In a few minutes more Dave and his chum gained the first of the buildings. Here they paused to listen and to look around.

"You want to be on your guard, Roger," whispered our hero. "Porton may be watching us and he may have some of his friends here. For all we know this may be his hang-out."

"I'll be on guard, don't fear," answered the senator's son, and brought forth his pistol.

"Don't use that gun unless you have to," warned Dave, who did not favor any shooting, even in an extreme case like this.

"I'll not give a rascal like Porton the chance to shoot me first,"

retorted Roger. "That fellow ought to be in jail, and you know it."

To this our hero did not answer. He felt in his pocket to make sure that his own weapon was ready for use.

Not a sound from the other buildings had reached them, nor did any one appear to be in sight.

"Looks to me as if we were in sole possession, now that those guerrillas have gone," announced Roger. "Wow! I hope they don't come back,--at least not until we are safe on our side of the Rio Grande,"

he added grimly.

"Come on, we'll take a look through the buildings," answered Dave.

"Don't make any noise if you can possibly help it."

Leaving the building which they had first entered--an abandoned stable--they moved through a broken-down cow-shed to a long, low structure which had evidently been used by the helpers on the ranch.

This building was also deserted, and all that remained in it was some filthy bedding alive with vermin.

"Come on, let us get out of here," remarked Roger, as he looked with disfavor at the squalor presented. "How can human beings live like this, Dave?"

"I don't know, Roger. This place ought to be burned down--it's the only way to get it clean," Dave added, shaking his head in disgust over the sight.

Less than fifty feet away was the corner of the main building of the ranch. Peering out cautiously, to make sure that no one was watching them, the two chums hurried across the open s.p.a.ce and crouched down beneath a wide-open window. Then Dave, pistol in hand, looked in through the opening.

The room beyond was deserted, and a glance around showed him that it contained little besides some heavy pieces of furniture which the looters had evidently been unable to remove. On a table rested several empty liquor bottles, and also a number of cigar and cigarette stubs.

On the floor were scattered newspapers and some playing cards.

"The fellows who were here evidently got out in a hurry," remarked Dave.

"Are you going to go in?" questioned Roger.

"I guess so. What do you think about it?"

"I'm with you, Dave. Now we have gone so far, we might as well finish the job."

It was an easy matter for the two chums to climb through the low window. Once in the room, they advanced toward a doorway leading to an apartment that opened on the _patio_ of the ranch home--an open courtyard which had once boasted of a well-kept flower garden, but which was now neglected and overrun with weeds.

As Dave gazed out across the _patio_ he saw a movement in a room on the opposite side of the ranch home. The face of a man had appeared for a few seconds. Behind him was some one else--who, however, Dave could not make out.

"My gracious, Roger!" gasped our hero in a low voice. "Did you see that fellow?"

"I saw some one."

"It was William Jarvey!"

"Jarvey! Are you sure?"

"I am certain of it. Now what do you think of that!"

"I'm sure I don't know what to think, Dave. Maybe he is making his headquarters here, the same as Ward Porton."

"I am going to try to find out. Come on."

Our hero made a quick mental calculation as to the ground plan of the ranch homeland then he and Roger began to work their way from one room to another, and then through a long, narrow hallway, until they reached the other side of the building. Here they paused at the end of the hallway to listen.

From a room close at hand came a murmur of voices. By straining his ears Dave made out the tones of William Jarvey. The former bookkeeper for the Mentor Construction Company was evidently talking to another man, but what was being said was not distinguishable.

"It's Jarvey all right enough," whispered Dave.

"Yes. But that isn't Ward Porton with him," returned Roger.

"I know it. It's some man."

Both continued to listen, and presently heard William Jarvey give a sarcastic laugh.

"You've got another guess coming, Packard Brown, if you think you are going to get that much out of the deal!" he cried. "Remember, you haven't done a thing to help us."