The Mark On The Door Part 5

Juan Marcheta shook his head dubiously.

"Such men will stop at nothing," he said. "You are taking a great risk."

"That's what we're here for," remarked Joe cheerfully. "Let's make the rounds of the garages and parking places and look for that machine.''

They viewed scores of autos within the next hour, and found several blue roadsters. Joe could identify none of them as the machine in *which Bario had driven away from the airport the previous night. When it was nearly noon Frank suggested that they give up the search and resume it after lunch.

"Just a minute!" exclaimed Joe, as they pa.s.sed the entrance to a narrow lane. "That looks like it."

A battered looking blue car was parked in the pathway, and Joe ran down to inspect it.

He came back in a few minutes, jubilant.

"Same roadster!" he declared. "I'd know it anywhere."

"Then we'll just wait here until Bario comes out," said Frank.

"I have a better plan than that. He might 54 drive away before we can stop him. I'm going to hide in the rumbleseat. Then I can't can't possibly lose him."

Jtian Marcheta, fresh from his experience at the hands of the kidnapers, thought Joe's plan was risky and advised caution, which Joe, however, would not listen to.

"For all we know, Tremmer might be right here in town. If he is, then Bario is very likely in touch with him. I might solve this whole case single-handed."

With the greatest confidence in the world, Joe went back down the lane and vanished into the rumbleseat of the roadster.

Frank and Juan waited at the mouth of the alley. They were fully prepared for a long stay, but in a few minutes a door opened and two men hurried out of one of the buildings in the lane. They got into the car, which lurched forward, and then shot out into the street, disappearing down the road in a cloud of dust.

The two boys gave chase but the auto swerved around the next corner. By the time Frank and Juan reached the intersection the roadster was nowhere to be seen.

"I hope Joe is enjoying the ride," said Frank, trying to disguise his anxiety. "They may take him all the way to Mexico."

"It was a foolish thing to do," Juan remarked gravely.

55 They hurried down the street, with very little hope of seeing the car again. Then ten minutes later, in the business section of the town, they were greatly elated to see the blue roadster standing in front of a barber shop. On the sidewalk, engaged in conversation with the two men who had driven the car away, stood Joe Hardy.

"They caught my brother I" declared Frank. "Let's hurry."

However, when Juan and Frank came up to the trio in front of the barber shop, they were felieved to see that Joe was in no trouble, but was talking to the strangers on apparently friendly terms. A moment later the men went into the shop and Joe trudged toward his companions with a pleased grin on his face.

"I thought I was in for it that time," he laughed. "The car hit a b.u.mp and I let a yell out of me when I hit my head, so the men knew they were carrying an extra pa.s.senger."

"How on earth did you get out of thai *c.r.a.pe?" asked Frank.

"They fished me out when the car stopped. They wanted to know why I was riding in the rumbles eat, so I simply told them the truth. They were Americans and I explained that I thought the car belonged to Sefnor Bario because I had seen him driving it last night. But the car didn't belong to Bario at all. One of 56 those men is a barber and it's his car. He says Bario 'borrowed' it from him last night without permission, and that he would have the fellow arrested if he could find him. But he can't find him."

""Why not?" asked Juan.

"He turned the case over to the police, and now it seems that Bario has left town. I tell you, that little car drive was worth while. I picked up more information in those five minutes than we learned all morning. And here's the important part," said Joe, evidently saving the best for the last. "Tremmer was with Bario I" "Tremmer was with Bario I"

"Tremmer!" exclaimed Frank.

"The same gentleman. The barber told me that Bario came into the shop yesterday with a little near-sighted man who wanted his mustache shaved off. Bario called him 'Senor Smith.' So there you are. And the police say Bario and this Senor Smith left town together."

Joe was very proud of himself, as he had good reason to be, and suggested that they all hurry back to the hotel at once.

"I think we're going to take a trip to Mexico," he said.

Fenton Hardy was waiting for the boys. He had not, it appeared, succeeded in acquiring much information about Elmer Tremmer.

57 "The airport people tell me he landed here all right. He came on from Brownsville yesterday morning, but seems to have disappeared into thin air."

"With Senor Bario," said Joe calmly. "They cleared out together."

Fenton Hardy looked at his son in surprise.

"How do you know?"

"We've been doing a little detective work ourselves."

Joe then told his father about the blue roadster and the information he had gleaned from the barber. Mr. Hardy knew the ability of his sons so well, that he was not exactly surprised, though highly pleased, at Joe's success.

"That settles it, then," he declared. "The trail of Bario is the trail of Tremmer-and it leads to Mexico."

"And we may go with you?" asked Frank anxiously.

"I can't very well refuse now," said Mr. Hardy with a smile. Then he turned to Juan Marcheta. "We'll take you home, of course, Juan, and you can help us locate this country of the cave dwellers. If that doesn 't work we '11 investigate the district where the Rio Oil people "were supposed to have their wells."

"When do we leave-and how?" asked Frank.

"We'll leave tonight, if I can make arrange58 ments for an airplane. I think it would be best if we should leave quietly. Bario may have friends in town and you may depend upon it that they'll be watching us."

That afternoon Mr. Hardy found a free-lance pilot who was willing to fly them across the border and to whom he explained the situation. The aviator suggested that the detective and his party drive out of town after darkness had fallen, promising to pick them up at a lonely place about twenty miles away.

Late that night a taxi was waiting at a side door of the hotel. Fenton Hardy and his sons, accompanied by Juan Marcheta, slipped quietly out and got into the car. They gave the driver his directions, and the taxi pulled away from the curb.

"All these precautions may be unnecessary, but it's well to be on the safe side," Mr.

Hardy remarked. "Bario knew of our arrival, and it's probable that he will have someone checking up onus."

Frank glanced out the rear window of the taxicab.

"There's a car following us," he said.

Mr. Hardy spoke to the driver, who promptly turned down a side street, sped up a narrow lane, raced down another street, and performed a variety of intricate maneuvres designed to throw any pursuers off their trail. But when 59 they reached the road leading out of town they could still see the headlights of the car behind. "So!" remarked the chauffeur. "'Well, if he wants a race, that's just what he is going to get. Hold tight!"

He stepped on the accelerator, and the taxi leaped ahead. For the next ten minutes the boys enjoyed one of the most exciting rides of their lives. The car leaped and pitched, took curves on two wheels, and roared on into the night at top speed. More than once it seemed that only sheer luck saved it from going into the ditch. The driver was an expert, however, and he knew just what his car would do. Frank, hanging on for dear life and gazing out the rear window, finally reported that the lights of the pursuing car had disappeared.

"I hope he busted an axle," grunted the man it it the wheel, slowing down to a more the wheel, slowing down to a more moderate rate of speed.

The headlights shone upon a vast expanse of treeless ranch land. The night was clear, with a full moon and a starlit sky. They drove on until they came to a group of deserted buildings beside the road.

"The old Bar-K ranchhouse," said the driver. "Here's where you stop."

"Has the ranch been abandoned?" asked Mr. Hardy.

"Not a bit of it. Plenty of cattle on the 60 Bar-K range yet. The new buildings are about five miles away."

They got out of the car and Mr. Hardy paid for the trip. The man touched his cap.

"Thanks, mister," he said. "I'll remember what you told me. n.o.body will get any information out of me. I say nothin', hear no thin' and see nothin'." He glanced up at the sky.

"It's a good clear night. I guess your pilot will be able to pick you up without any trouble."

"I hope so," said Fenton Hardy.

The taxi driver swung his car around, bade them a cheery goodnight, and rattled off into the gloom.

It was an eerie and lonely place. Not a sound broke the deep silence. The deserted ranch buildings looked ghostly. The boys glanced up into the sky, but the plane was not yet in evidence.

"We may have to wait a while," observed Mr. Hardy, "but the pilot said he would pick us up here without fail."

"It will be a good joke on us if he doesn't show up," Joe said. "I don't relish the idea of legging it back to town."

In the distance the boys heard a faint rumbling sound. It came from beyond a dark slope at the back of the ranch buildings. They looked at one another, puzzled.

61 Juan Marcheta suddenly flung himself down in the gra.s.s and put his ear to the ground.

He listened for a moment, his face serious. The heavy rumbling hecame louder. Juan leaped to his feet.

"It is no train!" he cried. "Quick! Run to the ranch buildings. There is no time to lose.

They will be here in a minute."

He dashed across the open ground toward the tumbledown ranchhouse.

"What's the matter?" demanded Joe.

"Quick!" urged Juan. "Quick, or we'll be trampled to death. I know that sound. Cattle! A herd of cattle on the stampede."

The words had hardly left his mouth before the Hardy boys saw a wave of dark shapes break over the crest of the ridge. Hundreds of milling animals rushed madly toward them.

CHAPTER VIII.

SIGNALS.

fenton" hardy and the boys were about a hundred yards from the buildings when Juan cried his warning. The top of the slope was nearly a quarter of a mile away. Yet, as they broke into a run and sprinted for safety, they knew that it would be only a matter of moments before the great herd would reach the foot of the slope.

"If we're caught out in the open we'll ba killed!'' yelled Juan.

By this time the others needed no further urging. They could see the black ma.s.s of cattle pouring down the hillside, horns tossing in the moonlight, hoofs drumming on the earth. Any living object in the path of that mad stampede would be trampled to a pulp. The front ranks were now halfway down the slope, and still more were pounding over the crest of the hill. It seemed as if the cattle would rush relentlessly into the ranch buildings. For a moment Frank and Joe doubted Juan's wisdom.

The group reached the shadow of the ranch62 63 hnse just as the stampede got to the foot of the slope with a thunderous roar. Juan and Joe, in the lead, raced across the few intervening yards of ground and flung themselves into an open doorway. open doorway.

Fenton Hardy, thinking of the safety of his boys, had lagged behind, waiting to see that all gained the refuge of the buildings before he himself took to cover. It was well that he had done so. Just as he ran into the shadowa Frank uttered a cry, stumbled and fell. At the same moment there was a crash and a splintering of shattered boards. Some of the cattle had plunged into a small fence at the back of the ranchhouse and carried it away in theii headlong rush.

"All right, Son," said Fenton Hardy, reach-ing down and grabbing Frank's outstretched hand. "Are you hurt?"

The boy struggled to his feet. He tried to inn but nearly fell again. His ankle had been twisted by the sudden tumble.

"Go ahead, Dad!" he gasped. "I'll-make it-all right-----"

"Nonsense!" Mr. Hardy flung his arm around Frank's waist. He half dragged, half carried the lad toward the doorway. He was still in the danger zone as half a dozen steers came plunging around the side of the ranch-house, bellowing madly. Frank and his father )54 made one last desperate effort. One of the animals thundered toward them.

Fenton Hardy s.n.a.t.c.hed off his hat and brandished it in front of the steer, which s.h.i.+ed violently to one side, so close that its heavy flank brushed against Frank and knocked him down. The other animals went rus.h.i.+ng past and a moment later Mr. Hardy had dragged his son to the safety of the doorway.

Juan Marcheta and Joe were limp with relief.

"I thought you were both done for!" said the latter.

"It was a very narrow-what you call it?-squeak!" said Juan.

"Close enough," remarked Mr. Hardy. "How is your ankle, Frank?"

"It will be all right. When that steer hit me it felt as if I was being grazed by a locomotive."

The boy managed to get to his feet, and the group stood in the doorway watching the awe-inspiring spectacle. Hundreds of cattle were milling about in the moonlight, and hundreds more were still thundering down the slope behind the ranchhouse.

Suddenly, in the clear night sky, the Hardys saw a winged object skimming high overhead.

"The plane!" cried Joe.

Their pilot had kept his appointment!

65 It was obvious, however, that it was impossible for him to make a landing. The waiting travelers saw the machine circling above the ranch buildings. Mr. Hardy took a flashlight from his pocket, aimed it skyward, and flashed a signal. A moment later the riding lights of the plane blinked off and on.

"He knows we're here, at any rate," Frank said.

As the aircraft swung around in another circle, the boys caught sight of an object sailing through the air. It struck the roof with a dull thud, bounced off, then fell to the ground. It proved to be a white handkerchief tied around a small bolt. When Juan retrieved it, he found that the piece of linen contained a scribbled note.

"Can't land here. If you can get away and meet me a mile up the road, flash once. If you can't get out, flash twice."

"We certainly can't get out while the cattle are here," said Juan.