  The rest can be briefly told. When the reserves, so to speak, entered Doctor Garfield’s office, they found Ramirez already captive in Hannaford’s clutches. The Mexican had been in the act of departing, he was, in fact, already at the front door, his hand on the knob, when the old Texan from the rear had commanded him to surrender. Don Ferdinand, raging, had broken away from the restraint of Mr. Hampton and Mr. Temple, and had followed in the wake of Hannaford and young Harincourt. He stood, trembling with passion, in front of Ramirez, as the aviators under Captain Cornell, and ably supported by Bob and Frank, appeared in the doorway of the office. “My daughter?” he was demanding, shaking his fist under Ramirez’s nose. “Where is my daughter?” And the latter, his evil eyes gleaming from his swarthy face, was leering down at the smaller man. “Where you cannot find her,” he was saying, for he believed that his shout of warning, emitted as Hannaford captured him, had been heard and heeded by the captors of Rafaela who were in the car outside. But the malicious triumph that shone from his eyes departed when his attention was drawn by the loud trampling of feet in the hall and he swung around to face newcomers in the doorway. If these were more Americans from the front of the house, it was likely that his men had been captured and Rafaela rescued, was the thought that followed. And this suspicion of the downfall of his rascality was confirmed when Bob stepped up to Don Ferdinand. “Don’t believe him, sir,” said the big fellow. “Your daughter is safe outside. Jack is with her.” The last words fell on unheeding ears. Don Ferdinand went through the crowd and out the hall like an arrow. Much had been done, but something still remained. Ramirez and several of his lieutenants had been captured, and Rafaela rescued. But a score of Ramirez’s followers were still at large, and the large band of Orientals whom Ramirez was smuggling into the United States in defiance of the immigration laws would have to be rounded up before the Border Patrol would consider its efforts a complete success. “You see, it’s this way,” Captain Cornell hurriedly explained to Jack and his comrades; “the new immigration law which is under discussion in Congress right now proposes a practically complete ban of Orientals. Few enough have been admitted heretofore, the majority being permitted to enter under a so-called gentlemen’s agreement, and posing as students. Well, some have been students, but certainly not all. “Now,” he added, “if you are not familiar with what is going on, I can tell you that our government is preparing to frame a law which will make it impossible for Orientals to enter our country. There have been frequent rumors of late to the effect that the Orientals were leaving their crowded home lands and migrating to Mexico, where there is no ban against them, in large numbers. Doubtless, Ramirez, who has a head on his shoulders, even if he does use it only for rascality, and who keeps abreast of the times, saw his opportunity in this situation. He has planned an ‘underground railway’ for running Orientals out of Mexico and into the United States. There used to be a traffic in the same sort of human contraband on the Pacific Coast, until it was broken up a few years ago. But,” he interrupted, surprised, “why these knowing looks at each other?” His listeners laughed. “You tell him, Jack,” said Bob. “Well, Captain,” said Jack, “you may not believe it, but we three happened to have a hand in breaking up that traffic. And a sweet time we had of it, too, for a while. By accident, we stumbled on something in San Francisco which made us dangerous to the Smuggling Ring. They kidnapped us and took us to sea. But we managed to escape and to bring the government forces down on their hiding place in the Santa Barbara Channel islands. Fellows,” he added, addressing Bob and Frank, “do you remember that inventor—Professor What’s-his-name, and his radio finder for locating uncharted stations? That’s how we managed to find the hiding place, Captain, through locating their radio calls between a shore station and their boats.” “Those were the happy days,” said Bob reminiscently, and a faraway look came into his eyes as his thoughts turned back to the exciting events narrated in The Radio Boys on Secret Service Duty. Frank nodded. “Lots of fun,” he said. Captain Cornell threw up his hands in mock dismay, as he laughed. “You three must be regular trouble-finders,” he commented. “Do you always get into the thick of things like this?” “Oh, not always,” said Jack. And Bob grumbled: “Thick of things? Huh. We aren’t in the thick of things this time. You fellows flying to Carana are going to get the cream of the whole affair.” The conversation had been conducted in undertones. All four were standing on the outskirts of the group in Doctor Garfield’s office, which was brilliantly lighted while in one corner Captain Murray, finding he could obtain little information from the sullen Ramirez, was now pumping Ramon. Don Ferdinand had taken Rafaela to the home of his merchant friend, and the boys were to call on them on the morrow. Doctor Garfield had re-dressed Mr. Hampton’s wound, and the latter had departed for the hotel, accompanied by Mr. Temple, for the express purpose of trying to locate the owner of the flivver which Bob and Captain Cornell had made off with outside of the Nueva Laredo bull ring that afternoon, in their pursuit of Ramirez, and of reimbursing him. The other aviators were listening to Captain Murray’s attempt to obtain information from Ramon. Presently the latter turned away impatiently, and, his eyes lighting on Jack, he beckoned him forward. “Hampton, I can’t get anything out of your old cook. You try your hand.” “Look here, Ramon,” said Jack, eyeing the old fellow keenly. “You’re afraid of something. You know you’ll not be prosecuted. You did us too good a turn outside for that. Now what is it? Tell me. Are you”—and he leaned closer, whispering so that only Ramon could hear—“afraid of what Ramirez may do if you betray any information about his plans?” “Si, Senor,” breathed Ramon. Jack in turn whispered to Captain Murray. The latter frowned thoughtfully for a second or two, then his eyes brightened, and he turned to Hannaford. The other stooped from his greater height, and the three put their heads together. The other Americans regarded them curiously. As for Ramirez he continued to glower while from beneath his lowered lids darted a poisonous glance which fell on Ramon and made the old fellow tremble. “Come on, you,” said Hannaford, at length, turning to Ramirez; “we’ll just put you where you won’t be no trouble to anybody but yourself.” With a hand as big as a ham gripping the more slightly built Mexican, Hannaford marched him outside and flung him into one of the taxicabs. “Where to, Jack?” “County jail. Step on ’er.” Behind them, in the office, already Ramon was growing brighter, with Ramirez away. And now he no longer hesitated to answer questions, for Jack assured him that Ramirez would be sent to the Federal Penitentiary for violation of a national law, and that years would elapse before he would ever be free again. “Senor Jack,” said Ramon, addressing Jack in Spanish, “you ask yourself why Ramon abandons you at the ranch? Ah, you do not know, you do not know that devil’s power? Once I was a bandit; that was years ago. Then I went to the Estados Unidos and became respectable. Senor, when I go to the village that day to buy supplies for our ranch, two lieutenants of Ramirez encounter me. Aye, Senor, those same two—Andreas and Jose—whom I fight and overcome in the car, myself, alone, single-handed, as you arrive.” He thumped his chest, and Jack with difficulty restrained a burst of laughter. From behind him, where the others crowded close, came a tittering which betrayed that others were not so heedful of the old man’s feelings. But Ramon paid them no heed. “Andreas and Jose tell me they have a fine job for me, Senor Jack, and when I decline and inform them I already have the fine job, they compel me to go with them. Of a certainty, I, Ramon, would have fought them then, except that they were armed while I had not even a knife. “We get in the train, Senor, and we ride to Laredo. And then they take me to that house you know of, where they make me cook for thousands of stinking Orientals. And, Senor, Ramirez, he laugh at me.” The old man bowed his head in shame, and this time no laughter came from the men crowding close behind Jack. The latter dropped a kindly hand on Ramon’s bowed shoulders. “It’s all over now, Ramon, and he shall never get you in his clutches again,” Jack promised. “And now,” he added, at an impatient whisper from Captain Murray, “tell us where the Orientals are, and how they are to be brought into the United States.” “Senor, tonight at midnight, they are to be at a point forty miles west, on the Rio Grande. A rough trail leads there, and it is wild country. At midnight, boats will meet them and they will be ferried across the river from Mexico into Texas. Guides will take them to Carana, where they will be housed until tomorrow night, when they will be sent on to San Antonio. There are no Americans at Carana, Senor, only Mexicans; and the whole town, which is not large, is in Ramirez’s pay or, else, fears him and keeps silent.” And once more Ramon ceased speaking, while his hands went patting here and there about his person, but without success, until one of the aviators with a smile stopped his fruitless search by thrusting a packet of cigarettes into his hand. The old man gratefully accepted one, lighted it, and sat back, puffing. Captain Murray walked to an open window and looked out. Then he turned back with a decisive set to his shoulders. “As calm a night as one could desire,” he said to his confrere, Captain Cornell. “Three hours to midnight. And we could reach Carana in less than an hour. I know the village. Nobody there to telephone to, nobody to put on guard. What say?” “You’ve landed there, haven’t you?” “Yes. In bright moonlight like this, there’s no chance to miss it. A little settlement where the river takes that big bend to the north. Several good fields nearby. And in this flood of moonlight, landing ought to be easy.” All were listening closely, and the atmosphere was tense. “If those Orientals once get into Texas, they’ll be as hard to round up as jackrabbits.” “Yes, and if we break up Ramirez’s gang, there’ll be no boats for the Orientals to cross in.” “Just what I was thinking. Three ships ought to be enough, two in each.” “Right. I’ll telephone the field to warm ’em up.” And Captain Murray turned to white-haired old Doctor Garfield, who like the others, had been an interested listener, and asked him for the location of his telephone. The Doctor silently threw open a door, and switched on the light in the next room, and Captain Murray sat down to the phone. |
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