The Radio Boys on the Mexican Border Part 18

"Good," said Jack, taking command. "We'll give them a surprise. These hangings are fastened to rings on a big pole up above us there, and they'll slide easily. Tom, you and Bob grab the hangings in the middle and be ready to pull them aside when I say the word. Frank, you and I will stand here in the middle and keep them covered."

All took their a.s.signed positions as the sound of voices was heard at the outer entrance. Jack peered between the two folds of the hangings and smiled with satisfaction.

"Let's go," he said.

The hangings flew aside.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE FIGHT IN THE CAVE

"Hands up, gentlemen," ordered Jack, rifle to shoulder.

"And be quick about it," added Frank, revolver extended.

Tom and Bob, the hangings disposed of, ranged themselves on either side of the pair. Four weapons covered the group in the outer room.

The three men, who had advanced well to the center of the room, stared dumbfounded at these apparitions. Then amazement gave place to anger, and one of the trio made a move as if to draw his revolver.

"None of that," commanded Jack, sternly. "Up with them quick or I'll shoot."

Three pairs of hands were unwillingly elevated. Two of the men wore sheepskin jackets and leather helmets and the boys surmised correctly that they had been up in the airplane. Bob felt certain they were Morales and Von Arnheim, the two who had made the trip to the East to steal Mr. Hampton's papers and whom he had foiled in that purpose, but who had succeeded in stealing the airplane and making their way to Mexico in it. The other was a rangy man of about twenty-six, keen and shrewd-looking, and had the appearance of an American. Evidently he was the guardian of the cave. And it was he who had moved to draw his weapon when surprised. A tough customer and one to be watched, thought the boys.

"Face about," ordered Jack.

They obeyed.

"Keep them covered, Tom," Jack then commanded. "Well search them."

With weapons held ready, the three boys advanced. At that moment, the caretaker of the cave took one step forward and instantly the lights in both rooms faded out and the cave was in inky darkness.

He had pressed a b.u.t.ton in the floor, switching off the lights.

The boys were so taken by surprise that for a moment they did not fire. Neither did Tom, for fear of hitting them as they were in front of him. This gave their three enemies an opportunity to s.h.i.+ft position and fling themselves p.r.o.ne.

When after their surprise, the boys did fire, their bullets merely pinged against the distant wall and did no damage. But the flash of their weapons betrayed their positions and answering bullets came uncomfortably close. One swept Jack's hat from his head.

From behind them Tom Bodine's revolver spoke, as the enemy thus betrayed themselves. The soft thud of a bullet striking flesh, a groan, choked off in the middle, a hasty scrambling to get away from the danger point on the part of the man struck, then silence.

This silence was so profound the boys seemed to hear the beating of their own hearts, and tried to hold their breath for fear of betrayal.

They had thrown themselves p.r.o.ne after the first volley and lay so close they were touching, Jack in the middle.

Each side was fearful now of firing at the other, lest the flashes give their position and an answering bullet find its mark.

Jack thought quickly. Putting his lips to the ear of each of his companions in turn, he whispered:

"Wait till I get Tom and come back. Then we'll make our way to the entrance."

Each signified by the pressure of a hand that he understood. Certainly it would not do to have the enemy escape and thus cut them off in the cave!

Slowly, carefully, noiselessly, Jack wormed his way to the rear and when he considered he must be in Tom Bodine's neighborhood he began whispering in a tone that could not be heard more than three feet away:

"Tom. Tom. Tom."

A hand gripped his leg. A voice whispered so low it was barely audible to him:

"That you, Jack?"

"Yes. Listen."

Running a hand over Tom Bodine's body, Jack found his ear and, as he had done with Bob and Frank, set his lips to it. He explained his purpose to gain the entrance to the cave and prevent being bottled up.

Tom nodded approval, and Jack was about to return to his companions when he suddenly thought of the radio room beyond, and its possibilities. It would never do to leave that unguarded. Their enemies could telephone the Calomares ranch. Then, even if the boys escaped, their ident.i.ties would have become known at rebel headquarters. Their chances of rescuing Mr. Hampton would go glimmering.

Once more Jack set his lips to Tom's ear and explained the situation.

"That's right," whispered Tom in return. "Tell you what. I'll guard this here inner room from behind the rocks in this doorway. You three stop up the outer entrance, an' well have 'em bottled."

Jack made his way back to his comrades, and the three started crawling. They moved inch by inch, so as to avoid b.u.mping into furniture--a number of heavy chairs had been seen standing about the great room.

Jack was in the lead, Frank at his heels, Bob bringing up the rear.

Cautiously, tortuously, they made their way ahead for what seemed like ages, pausing frequently to listen.

After one such pause, as he again started to follow Frank, Bob felt a form brush against him from the side. Then an arm shot out and encircled his neck. Bob wriggled about to face his opponent and threw both arms about him in a mighty clasp.

As they fell to the floor, Bob heard a strangled cry from Frank and a grunt from Jack. They, too, had come to grips with the enemy. Their three opponents had started for the door with the same purpose held by the boys--that of bottling up the other side. The two crawling trios had brushed against each other in the middle of the floor.

Now three individual fights raged furiously on the floor of the cave in Stygian darkness. Every man fought for his very life. The sob of labored breathing was the only sound--that and the thres.h.i.+ng about of bodies.

Tom Bodine was sick with rage at his helplessness, for he dared not shoot lest he hit one of the boys, and he could not see to take a hand. He decided to try to find that b.u.t.ton in the middle of the floor of the outer cave which the enemy had used to throw off the lights.

If not that, perhaps there was a wall switch somewhere. In his pockets was a box of safety matches. With these in his hands he started for what he thought was the middle of the room.

Recklessly Tom struck and lighted matches, searching the floor for that b.u.t.ton, stopping after each match burned down to his fingers to listen to the panting, heaving struggle going on about him.

At last he found the b.u.t.ton and pressed it. Light once more flooded both caves, dazzling to the eye after the pitch darkness of the moment before. Jack and Frank were still tightly locked with their respective foemen. But at the very moment the lights were switched on, Bob got the upper hand of his man with a famous hold he had used to advantage in winning his wrestling fame at school. There was a heave, and then Bob straightened up and the other went hurtling through the air. He was the American of the enemy trio.

The man fell on his left side, a yard or more away, by a quick twist avoiding the descent on his head, which is the usual result of such a wrestling toss. His right arm was outflung and, as he skidded along the floor, the fingers of his right hand came in contact with a revolver dropped by one of the wrestlers.

Twisting about like a cat, with a convulsive movement, the man came to his knees and fired. There was a warning shout to Bob from Tom Bodine.

But the man's aim was far from steady, and the shot went wide.

Bob leaped forward as if shot from a catapult, letting out a wild yell as he did so. It was a tremendous leap from a standing position, and he descended feet first on the other before he could discharge the revolver again. Beneath the impact of Bob's weight the man went down like a shot rabbit and lay still. Bob disarmed him, turned him on his face, pulled his arms behind him and began tying them with his belt.

Meantime Jack was getting the better of his man, the Mexican. But Frank, slightest of the three boys, was putting up a losing fight against the German. The latter had him down and was kneeling on his chest with his hands throttling the boy. Frank's face was purple and the breath was whistling in his throat, while his efforts to throw the other off were becoming more and more feeble.