In record time the little machine drew up before a substantial building located in one of the residential sections of town.

Alighting, the three men proceeded at once to awaken the government agent. But it was ten minutes before they succeeded in gaining entrance into the building and were ushered into the beautiful library by Mr. Southwick himself.

As chief of the local division of the Department of Justice—that great department at Washington which fought the agents and spies that Germany had placed in America—Mr. Southwick had distinguished himself during the war in his own state, and indeed his name was a familiar one throughout the whole Southwest.

A large man physically, he towered well over six feet as he stood before his three nocturnal visitors, clad in a dressing-gown of variegated pattern. A glance at the man revealed the secret of his success. Strength and determination were written in every feature of his massive leonine countenance. His piercing gray eyes were set deeply in his head, which was crowned with a shaggy mane of iron-gray hair. It was plain to the beholder that this man was to be respected as a friend, to be feared as a foe. Obviously, he was one of those mortals who seemed destined to be a power in any field in which he chose to turn his abilities.

When America was finally drawn into the Great War, it was he who was appointed by the government to fight the enemy’s propaganda in the border states. The appointment was in itself a high tribute to the man, for on every side his post was recognized as one of the most difficult that the country afforded. His name had become a terror to the few enemy sympathizers who were left in the state, and his reputation sufficed to keep these few from any overt acts of destruction.

Motioning Danny and O’Hara to a seat, he turned to the policeman and went at once to the heart of the matter:

“I suppose something extremely important must have induced this midnight call. I am ready to hear you.” The policeman pointed a finger toward O’Hara and said:

“This gentleman is the one to tell you about it.”

Mr. Southwick turned toward O’Hara with a look of inquiry.

O’Hara met it squarely. Then, searching a moment for words to put the matter succinctly, he said:

“Mr. Southwick, I have evidence in hand which shows that you are harboring a traitor in your midst. You may know the man. His name is Brown—owner of a big ranch near the city. Without telling the story of how I happened to get there, I’ll simply say that I finally managed to escape with these papers. I arrived in Albuquerque about an hour ago with my nephew here, and we decided to come to you immediately. Here are the papers. I think they will establish the truth of what I have just been saying.”

The chief reached for the bundle of papers, but said nothing, nor indeed were the onlookers able to discern any expression of surprise on his face as he listened to O’Hara’s disclosure.

He untied the papers, and spreading them out on the desk at which he sat, he glanced through them hurriedly. When he again looked up, Danny and O’Hara could see that he had already arrived at a decision.

“Gentlemen,” he said, “this bundle of papers contains enough evidence to put a dozen men in the penitentiary if we can lay our hands on them. We must immediately gather in as many of these traitors as we can. Burns,” he addressed the policeman, “go out and locate every detective and officer that you can. Have them meet at my residence in half an hour. There’s not a minute to be lost. I will get in touch with several men from my own office. In thirty-five minutes exactly we will start for Brown’s ranch with as much of a force as we can organize.”

“Sooner if possible, Chief,” suggested Danny. “We left the ranch almost two hours ago, and something was in the wind then. It looked like they were planning to leave. They may be gone now.”

Burns had left to do Mr. Southwick’s bidding, and the next half hour sped by in hurried preparation.

From time to time a new arrival swelled the little group of men who were waiting patiently for the minute of departure. Burns was evidently successful in rounding up his men. Finally, five minutes before the time of departure, two big motor cars rolled around the corner and stopped in front of the house. A moment later, Burns came up the steps, puffing from his exertions.

Mr. Southwick appeared, and after assuring himself that every man in the party was fully armed, he led the way to the waiting automobiles. The two men at the wheel, who were members of Mr. Southwick’s office, appeared to have received their instructions already. Doubtless, their chief had informed them of the nature of the job to be done.

Danny and O’Hara were loath to leave Mr. Southwick and his aids, now that the expedition was about to set out. So, after a hurried word with the government official, they again boarded Mary Louise’s little machine and started with the others for the distant ranch.

For a considerable distance, the three machines sped over the road that Danny and O’Hara had already traveled earlier in the night. To prevent the quarry from escaping, in case the pursuit were discovered prematurely, Mr. Southwick decided to steer a course far to the southward. About five miles from the ranch a wide detour was made, and after an hour of rapid driving over bumpy, dusty roads, the party drew up and halted at a signal from the leading machine.

Gathering the force around him, Mr. Southwick said:

“Now, men, I hardly need to tell you that this venture is a dangerous one. We are dealing with desperadoes, and they will fight for their lives. I have been thinking over a plan of action, and I think the best thing to do is to divide ourselves into three groups. Burns, you will command the first group, and when we get within a half mile of the ranch, you will turn to the left and approach from that direction. Maitland, I’ll put you in with Mr. Dexter and Mr. O’Hara. You three will take your position on the right. I’ll take the center and go straight north. If escape is attempted, you must shoot. Under no circumstances must we allow these traitors to escape. Shoot, if necessary. Take no chances, but be sure that bullets are necessary before you start in. Each man will have to take care of himself. And remember, no matter what happens, you are doing no more than any loyal American citizen is expected to do.”

Approval was written on the faces of the assembled men, and when Mr. Southwick put the question, “Is everybody ready?” their response was unanimous.

A moment later and the three machines were again in motion.

The ranch was now very near. The moon shone down with crystalline clearness as the various buildings, separating themselves from the background, appeared to the spectator only as towering black objects.

“Spread apart, men!” commanded the leader of the party.

Instantly the machines in command of Burns and Maitland swerved in opposite directions.

Danny was at the wheel of Maitland’s machine. Knowing the lay of the land, he put on full speed, and was soon leading the others by a comfortable margin.

As their machine bore down on the ranch, Danny and O’Hara realized that their course would bring them just to the rear of the Brown bungalow.

Closer and closer drew the raiding party.

Suddenly, as their eyes were fixed on the prospect ahead, the sleeping camp seemed roused to activity. Silhouetted figures dashed here and there. It was evident that the noise of the oncoming cars had been heard and the alarm sounded.

The first clear indication of this came in Danny’s quarter.

Before the three men had time to form a definite plan, a loud chugging announced the presence of Brown’s huge car in the immediate vicinity. Evidently the occupants of the camp had determined on flight, and, even now, were prepared to dash for the open.

Suddenly the big car rounded the corner of the bungalow, and instantly picking up speed, darted away to the southward.

“Stop that car!” shouted Maitland. “Shoot low! Don’t let him get away! Aim for the tires.”

A fusillade of shots rang out as O’Hara and Maitland poised their rifles an instant and started to pump bullets at the dark retreating mass.

Another volley, and another.

There was a sudden snap as a bullet found its way into one of the rear tires of Brown’s car. Then a baffled cry of rage rose on the air.

Swinging the little machine around at an abrupt angle, Danny started toward the other car, now arrested in its flight. As he pulled up a short distance away, a shot rang out and he heard the whistle of lead as it winged its way past his left ear.

“Down, men!” he shouted. “Crouch down!” And suiting the action to the word, the three men sought protection in the depths of the machine.

As they were preparing to return the fire, they heard the noise of Mr. Southwick’s machine as it approached from the opposite side. That redoubtable official had heard the sound of the shots, and as he came up, he took in the situation at a glance.

“Surrender!” he called out. “Surrender in the name of the Government of the United States!”

What feelings that voice inspired in the hearts of Brown and his confederates may never be known. But it must have sounded to them like the voice of doom, for now their consciences must have told them that retribution was at hand. They had dared to be traitors, and had sought to betray a great free country. For gold, they had sacrificed honor and respect, and now, gold had failed them, as gold always does.

Again Mr. Southwick’s voice boomed out:

“Do you surrender?”

There was no answer, but three dark figures stepped from the car, and with hands raised high in the air, moved into the open.

Instantly, Mr. Southwick, attended by the men in his car, moved forward to meet them. O’Hara and Maitland, followed by Danny, also joined the group.

His features distorted with hate and chagrin, Brown stood before the stern government official. At his side stood Tom Whalen, sullenly defiant, and Jo, the little Jap chauffeur, who, with oriental calmness and imperturbability, surveyed his captors without moving an eyelash.

In the meantime, the third machine had already reached the ranch.

Jumping from their machine, Burns and his companions quickly searched the outbuildings of the ranch, and finding nothing of consequence, sat down to await the arrivals of the others. While they were thus engaged, the sound of purring automobiles in the distance suddenly ceased, and the sound of shots, carried on the still night air, fell on their ears.

Instantly alert, and without waiting to start their car again, the four members of the party rushed across the ranch in the direction of the firing. As they swung around the corner of the bungalow, they were astonished at the spectacle that confronted them.

Three menacing revolvers were pointed at Brown and his companions, who had been marched to the side of the bungalow at Mr. Southwick’s direction. There, arms in air, they stood, uneasily moving from side to side as they awaited the further commands of the government official.

With a hurried “At your service, sir,” Burns and the three detectives joined their superior.

“Search these fellows!” commanded Mr. Southwick.

The men jumped forward, and while leveled revolvers continued to insure the good behavior of the three captives, Burns and his agile-fingered helpers went to work, turning their pockets inside out, and removing everything that they came across.

In a few minutes they had exposed a veritable arsenal—revolvers, a half dozen boxes of bullets, wicked-looking knives, and a considerable amount of American and Mexican money. Brown’s inside pocket yielded a bulky packet of papers, and this was immediately placed in Mr. Southwick’s keeping.

While this scene was being enacted, Danny and O’Hara, accompanied by Maitland, had conducted a search of Brown’s automobile. Nothing was found in the front part of the machine, but under the tonneau seat a heavy wooden chest was revealed, locked and bolted on three sides. After they had transferred this to Mr. Southwick’s car, they returned to the group by the bungalow.

The eastern sky was now shot with faint streaks of light, which proclaimed the coming of dawn. Now, for the first time, it would be possible to make a thorough search of the premises.

As O’Hara came up, Brown glared at him as though seeing him for the first time since the arrival of the raiding party.

“So you’re the informer, are you?” he said, wrathfully. “A fine patriot you are! Your friends must be pretty bad off to get help from criminals.”

O’Hara was about to reply, when Mr. Southwick turned to the German, and said, acidly:

“You’ll have plenty of opportunity to talk later, Brown. Just now, what we want from you is information. I have evidence that your wife was here last night. Where is she now? Speak the truth. Where is she?”

A sneer passed over the cold face of the man. “If it will do you any good to know,” he said, “she is in Mexico by this time. Perhaps you’d like to catch her, too, eh? Yes, and maybe the Mexicans will help you. Suppose you try?”

Doubtless the man spoke the truth.

The stately woman whose beauty had so impressed O’Hara on his arrival at the ranch, was nowhere to be found. By this time the bungalow and its adjacent buildings had already been searched by the busy men.

O’Hara turned to Danny, who was standing at his side, and said in low voice:

“I can’t say that I am sorry for that, Danny. This is a terrible situation for a woman to be mixed up in, and somehow, I hate to see a woman in trouble even when she deserves it.”

Danny gave a nod of approval.

“That’s right, Uncle Jim,” agreed the young man. “I know exactly how you feel. I think every real man feels the same way. Somehow, we hate to think that a beautiful woman could be mixed up in anything so disagreeable as this. Well, we’ve got this man Brown, anyway, and he’s the real power behind the throne. At least, I think so.”

Meantime, Mr. Southwick was receiving reports from the detectives who were searching every nook and corner of the ranch.

“The ranch is deserted, sir,” said one of the detectives who had come down in Burns’s car. “We’ve gone over every shack on the place with a fine-tooth comb, and everything is just about cleaned out.”

Mr. Southwick turned to O’Hara.

“By the way, you mentioned something in my library about being locked up in a subterranean cavern. You said something about a safe being there, filled with documents of all kinds. Do you know how to reach it?”

“Yes,” replied O’Hara. “It is right under that big gasoline tank over there. There’s a secret trap-door, but Brown and his tools here are the only ones who know how to work the combination.”

Glancing at the three captives, Mr. Southwick’s eyes fell on the little Jap chauffeur.

“Come here, Togo,” he commanded.

The Jap obeyed with alacrity.

“I want you to show these men how to open that door. Understand?”

The little yellow man instantly donned a servile manner, as though he realized that the overlordship of Brown was over, and new masters must now be served.

Leading the way to the tank, he descended into the huge hollow, closely followed by O’Hara and two of the other men.

After they had made their way to the farther end of the tank, the Jap suddenly stooped and touched something that seemed to be one of the rivets that held the giant steel tank together. Instantly the steel walls moved as O’Hara had seen them do earlier, and the aperture leading to the cave opened up directly in front of them. The men marvelled at the ingenuity which had devised this hidden retreat.

O’Hara was the first to file through the opening and descend into the depths of the cave.

“You next!” said one of the detectives to the Jap, as the latter was edging to one side.

The oriental obeyed without a word, followed by the two detectives.

It was several minutes before the men were able to make out their surroundings in the dim light of the gloomy interior.

After O’Hara had ushered the men over the cave, and had shown them the huge concrete emplacement rising to a height of fully twenty feet, he led the way to the bulky safe which stood in the same position as before.

“Get to work, Jo, and open this up!” commanded O’Hara.

The Jap was at the side of the safe and turning the dial almost before the command was given. Finally, with a vigorous pull, the huge steel doors were forced out, and the interior of the safe was revealed.

Empty! Not a sheet of paper remained.

“They’ve stolen a march on us!” exclaimed one of the detectives in a disappointed tone.

“I’m not so sure of that,” said O’Hara.

He cast a look in the direction of the Jap, who stood by, as silent and inscrutable as the race from which he sprang.

“Where are all the papers that were here, Jo? You might as well tell us.”

“Papers?” he questioned, blankly.

“Yes, papers,” countered O’Hara. “The same papers that were here when you came down into the cave with that Irish detective from the city. Don’t you remember?”

Did the Jap’s eyes suddenly turn downward under O’Hara’s steady scrutiny? It was hard to tell in the gloom of the cave, but he uttered a quick “Yes, yes!” of dismay, and said in liquid tones:

“Papers! Yes, I know. Papers in Mr. Brown’s automobile. You find them in box. Mr. Brown take away.”

O’Hara turned to the detectives.

“This doesn’t surprise me, boys,” he said. “We’ve already got our hands on those papers. Before you arrived on the scene, we took a whole chestful of them from Brown’s machine, and put them in Mr. Southwick’s car. I felt pretty sure then that there wouldn’t be anything here for us when we came. What do you say about going back?”

“I’m ready!”

“Me, too!”

They filed from the cave in the order in which they entered, O’Hara opening and closing the entrance several times by pressing the neatly camouflaged button.

On reaching open air, the party rejoined Mr. Southwick’s forces which were still beside the bungalow.

The big man’s only comment, as O’Hara reported the result of the trip, was, “Just as I thought.”

Preparations were busily under way for the return to the city. The search of the ranch had been completed, and at Mr. Southwick’s order, the huge touring car of Brown had been mended and placed in readiness. In the tonneau of the car sat the crestfallen owner, and beside him was Tom Whalen. To prevent any attempt at escape, the two were handcuffed together, and an armed guard was placed over them.

The Jap was ordered into the front seat of the machine, and beside him was seated a second detective.

It was a tired group of men who raced over the long desert road to Albuquerque on the return journey. The early morning sun was beating down from the east, and the intense heat of the desert was making itself felt over the refreshing coolness of the night.

Mr. Southwick’s car led off, and was followed by Brown’s machine, which was carefully watched by the occupants of “Queenie,” the next one in line. One of Mr. Southwick’s lieutenants brought up the rear of the procession.

Early morning pedestrians on the streets of the thriving little town glanced curiously at the row of machines, and wondered at their presence at that hour. They would have been still more surprised had they seen the four machines draw up a few minutes later in front of the county jail. Luckily, the street on which this stood was still deserted.

After the captives were safely lodged behind bars, the raiding party separated in all directions. Mr. Southwick walked over to Danny and O’Hara, and slapping them on the back, said:

“We are greatly indebted to you two men. As one loyal American to another, I want to thank the both of you from the bottom of my heart. You have done your country a great service—greater, perhaps, than you know. Good luck to you, and I hope I may call on you later when we bring Brown and his assistants to trial.”

“You surely can, Mr. Southwick!” answered Danny.

As O’Hara shook hands with the famous official, the letter said, kindly:

“There may come a time when I can be of some help to you, Mr. O’Hara. If so, do not hesitate to call on me. You have my promise.”

“Many thanks!” answered the other.

And as the towering figure entered his machine, O’Hara turned to his nephew and said:

“Danny, do you think he knows who I am?” “I think so, Uncle Jim. I have felt that right along,” replied the young man.

O’Hara sighed, and continued:

“I wonder what Mr. Southwick meant about helping me?”

“I don’t know,” responded Danny, “but I do know that Mr. Southwick appreciates what you have done. He is the kind of man who doesn’t say much, but I know he attaches the greatest importance to the raid we have just been through. You’ll have to admit, Uncle Jim, you were responsible for that!”

“It was little that I did,” answered O’Hara.

“Nonsense!” exclaimed the young man. “You were behind the whole thing. We couldn’t have proven anything without that bundle of papers. Mr. Southwick knows that. The capture of Brown will be a big feather in his cap when the news reaches Washington, and he’s bound to give you full credit. No, Uncle Jim,” continued Danny, “I don’t think you need fear anything more. It looks like smooth sailing to me from now on.”

“Do you really think so?” In O’Hara’s voice there was a note of yearning that did not escape the younger man. “Yes, Uncle Jim. Now, don’t worry!” he encouraged. “We’ve made a good friend. Mr. Southwick means what he says. I am sure our troubles are just about over.”

As the two men motored slowly through the streets in the direction of the hotel, a share of Danny’s optimism entered the heart of the older man, and a smile of childlike happiness stole over his saddened face.