The Mark On The Door Part 18

"I'm not worrying about him," Fenton Hardy said confidently. "You boys always seem to land on your feet."

"We landed in a tight fix this time," Joe answered.

Suddenly, away up in the darkness of the gorge, they heard a harsh, savage screech. It was exactly like the scream of a wildcat. Joe and his father leaped to their feet.

"Frank's signal!" exclaimed the latter. "I knew he wouldn't fail us."

They went out of the cave. The snoring guard did not stir. Up near the native camp they saw a fire, while dark figures moved back and forth against the ruddy glare.

"The coast is clear," whispered Joe.

Quickly they flitted through the gloom until they reached the trail. They encountered no one, and the sullen roar of the river drowned any sound they might have made.

Joe had not forgotten their little pet, which was close at his heels.

206 The boy and Ms father rounded a bend in the trail and left the camp behind. After five minutes of brisk walking they saw the shadowy outline of horses ahead of them. They heard a low whistle.

"We're here, Frank!" called out Joe softly.

Frank had succeeded in locating the ponies, which were spirited animals. They were saddled and bridled. Everything was in readiness.

"I've been looking around," said Frank. "There's a path leading down to the river from this place and the water seems shallow. It's a ford, I'm sure. I think we can get across to the other side. Then we '11 work our way along the bank and try to pick up Yaqui's trail."

"Dad has a flashlight," Joe told him.

"Good work. We won't be able to use it while we 're in sight of the camp, but it will be handy later on."

The three Hardys mounted their ponies and rode down the path to the stream, where the animals plunged into the water without hesitation. The river was shallow and the current was not swift. They made the crossing without difficulty. As if by instinct the lead pony found the trail on the opposite bank.

When the Hardys came in sight of the camp again they proceeded cautiously lest they be seen by someone on the opposite sh.o.r.e. Most 207 of the natives were asleep. The others were so busy with their own concerns, that by the time the trio reached the place where they had last seen Elmer Tremmer they were confident they had not been observed.

Before them, visible in the moonlight, a winding trail led up the wall of the canon. The ponies followed it without hesitation. The sure-footed animals took to the narrow path as if it had been a highway.

"I'd think twice before I would tackle this without a horse," murmured Joe as they made their way on up the steep face of the cliff. "One false step, and a fellow wouldn't stop rolling until he hit the water."

"These ponies don't make false steps," Frank a.s.sured him.

They finally reached the top of the canon wall. Glancing back, they could see the white gleam of the river far below in the moonlight, and the red glare of the natives' campfire in the distance. Before them loomed the dark wall of a forest.

"Now, if Yaqui has kept his promise and blazed the trail for us we'll set out after Elmer Tremmer," declared Frank. "I guess it's safe to use the flashlight now, Dad."

Fenton Hardy snapped on the light. The brilliant beam phone on the tangle of tropical vesretation before them. It picked out a patch 208 of white on a tree trunk where the bark had been slashed off with a sharp knife.

"Good old Yaqui!" exclaimed Joe. "It's as plain as a Bayport street sign."

The Hardys rode toward the blazed tree. The flashlight showed them a fresh trail leading into the bush. A few yards ahead they saw a second blaze. Fenton Hardy led the way with the light, and they all plunged into the forest.

Thanks to Yaqui's signs they were able to follow the bush trail without difficulty, although their progress was slow. They had the satisfaction of knowing that they were steadily leaving Pedro Vincenzo and his men behind, and at last were drawing closer to the fugitive witness whose trail had brought them from far-off Bayport into a wild region of Mexico.

The bush thinned out eventually and they reached a clearing. In the middle of this open s.p.a.ce towered an enormous tree.

'' Look!'' cried Joe excitedly. '' The mark of theP!"

His sharp eyes had caught sight of a sign branded into the bark of the tree. Mr. Hardy turned the flashlight directly upon it, and they saw again the familiar symbol of the initial in the f.a.got fire.

"Pedro Vincenzo puts that symbol of his in strange places," remarked Fenton Hardy, ex209 amining it curiously. "I wonder why he went to all the trouble of leaving it here."

''It's probably there as a sign in case any of the natives should get lost trying to find their way back to the canon," Frank ventured. "Anyway, we haven't time to bother about it now. I see a fresh blaze on the other side of the clearing."

They struck again into the forest, leaving the mysteriously branded tree behind. Yaqui had been thorough about his work, and the Hardys followed the trail from blaze to blaze. In about an hour's time they came to the edge of the forest and emerged onto a hillside covered with low brush. At the foot of the slope was a rolling meadow, while a mile away they could see a glimmer of light.

"Perhaps Tremmer decided to camp for the night," Joe suggested.

"Let's hope so," replied Frank.

Out in the open they traveled at a faster pace. Soon they reached the foot of the slope and struck out across the level country. As they rode as fast as they could in the direction of the light, they saw the dim outline of a hut.

"It may be only a herder's cabin," said Fenton Hardy.

"If it is we've run into hard luck," Frank remarked. "There aren't any more trees to follow.

We may lose the trail entirely."

210 Impatiently they rode toward the tiny cabin. As they drew up in front of the door a figure emerged. The flashlight shone upon the familiar face of Yaqui.

Frank and Joe uttered cries of delight as they flung themselves out of their saddles.

"Yaqui!" cried Frank. "We followed your trail. Is Tremmer far ahead?"

The Indian smiled. Then he gestured toward the hut.

"This is the end of the trail," he told them. "The white man is inside."

"Tremmer is here?" questioned Fenton Hardy.

CHAPTER XXV.

THE END OF THE CASE.

the Hardy boys found Elmer Tremmer, the fugitive bookkeeper, lying on a straw pallet on the floor of the gloomy little hut. He was in a state of utter collapse.

"I give up!" he cried weakly, as they entered the building. In the gleam of the flashlight his face was pale and worn. "I'm ready to go back. No matter what it costs-even if I go to prison-I'll go back."

The strain of that long journey through the bush had told heavily on him. He was not a strong man, and now he was physically exhausted.

Fenton Hardy sat down beside him.

"You've been very foolish, Tremmer," he said. "Why did you run away?"

"Because Vincenzo warned me. He said the authorities would arrest me for my part in the Eio Oil affair. But it wasn't my fault, Mr. Hardy. I swear it. I kept the books, but I didn't know the business was crooked. I see it now, of course-but it's too late."

211.

212 "It isn't too late. Don't you realize that Vincenzo merely wanted you out of the way so you couldn't give evidence against his a.s.sociates?"

"Your sons told me that. But I didn't believe them. I thought it was a trick to get me back to the States."

"It wasn't a trick. I'm authorized to promise you, Tremmer, that no action will be taken against you if you will come back to Bayport and give your evidence for the State."

"I can really go back? And I won't be put in prison?" cried Tremmer eagerly.

"You have my promise," said Fenton Hardy firmly.

"Then," returned Tremmer, "I'll return with you. And believe me, I'll be glad to see Bayport again. Mexico is a wonderful country, but it's no fun being a prisoner and thinking you're a fugitive from justice at the same time."

Frank and Joe were hilarious with joy. Their mission to Mexico had been successful at last. They clapped Yaqui on the back and a.s.sured him that he deserved most of the credit.

Even the dog, Egg, seemed to realize that the occasion called for a demonstration, and he went scampering about the hut barking with delight.

"I must tell you," said Elmer Tremmer, 213 "that Vincenzo has other plans up his sleeve. I overheard him talking to one of his men yesterday. He is planning to kidnap a girl-her name is Dolores-----"

"Dolores Marcheta!" cried Fenton Hardy.

"Yes. That's the name," exclaimed Trem-mer. "If you know the family, they must he warned."

"Then there is no time to lose," declared Frank. "The Marchetas are friends of ours.

Before we leave Mexico we must see that Pedro Vincenzo is put behind the hars where he he-longs."

The Hardys and Mr. Tremmer set out early the next morning, and with the guidance of Yaqui soon found their way to the main highway. They came to a large inn where they were ahle to hire an automobile that whirled them over the last thirty miles of their journey in less than an hour's time. It was mid-afternoon when they reached the home of Senor Marcheta.

Fenton Hardy and his sons received a royal welcome. Senor Marcheta and Juan made no secret of the sense of relief they felt in seeing their American friends again.

"We were sure you must have been captured by bandits when the soldiers we sent failed to find you," declared Juan. "We were going to organize a search party."

214 "We were," laughed Frank. "And the-search party will still be useful."

They told the story of their adventures. When Senor Marcheta learned that Vincenzo was still planning villainy against his household he lost no time getting into action.

"We'll settle that fellow without any more delay," he said. "Now that we know where to find Vincenzo's headquarters, we can organize a raiding party." Then, turning to the detective and his sons, Senor Marcheta said, "No doubt, after your trying experiences, you will prefer to rest. If you will permit us to have the services of your Yaqui as a guide-----"

"Don't you want us to come along?" cried Joe. "Do you think we'll let the Indian have all the fun? Just try to keep us out of this excursion.''

Senor Marcheta laughed.

"My little joke," he apologized. "I might have known you would insist upon being present at the end."

Accompanied by a squad of a dozen soldiers, Senor Marcheta, Juan, Yaqui, Fenton Hardy and his sons set out early the following morning for the canon. Swift automobiles brought them within a few miles of their destination. Then they mounted ponies and rode down a side trail toward the river. When the soldiers 215 came in sight of the native village they swooped upon it, hoping to capture Pedro Vin-cenzo by surprise.

The wily rogue was not to be caught napping, however. He had evidently suspected the truth when he had learned of his prisoners' escape. Greatly to the disappointment of the raiding party the village was deserted. Not a native remained. Pedro Vincenzo and his followers had taken to their heels.

The soldiers scouted around for some time hoping to pick up the trail, but without success. Senor Marcheta was crestfallen.

"As long as that rascal is at large," he said, "I shall never feel that any member of my family is safe."

Joe was looking thoughtfully across the river.

"Frank," he said, "I have an idea. Let's take Yaqui and a couple of the soldiers. I may be all wrong, but I think I can find Vincenzo's hiding place."

Frank was puzzled.

"What's the idea?" he asked.

"The mark on the door," Joe replied mysteriously.

Yaqui and two of the soldiers readily agreed to follow him. Juan and his father begged to be allowed to come also. Joe led the party across the river and tip the path to the top 216 of the canon wall, then through the bush, following the trail blazed by the Yaqui in the pursuit of Elmer Tremmer. At last they came to the huge tree in the clearing.

"It's just a hunch," said Joe, pointing to the familiar brand in the surface of the tree, "but Vincenzo had a habit of putting that mark on doors."

Frank quickly seized his brother's idea. The Hardy boys dismounted hastily and went over to the tree. After a brief examination they shouted with triumph, and called to the soldiers. Joe seized a knot in the rough surface, tugged at it-and the whole side of the trunk came away.

There was revealed a cunningly contrived door. The Hardys climbed through the opening, and looked down an aperture. They saw a flight of steps leading below the ground, and quickly descended. A moment later those above heard shouts and cries for mercy.

Then, at the foot of the stairs, appeared Joe and Frank dragging a craven figure.

The man was Pedro Vincenzo. The mark on the door had revealed the secret of his last hiding place.

Sefior Marcheta and Juan stared at the prisoner.

"Why, it's Pedro Pancho!" cried Juan.

The captive glared at Senor Marcheta.

217 "I see the game is up," he said bitterly. "But if it hadn't been for those American boys, I'd have had my revenge on you, Mar-cheta."

"Thanks to the Hardys," replied the Mexican gentleman with dignity, "my family will now know peace and security. As for your fancied revenge, you are aware that I never harmed you. It was all in your evil imagination."

He spoke curtly to the soldiers and turned away. In a moment Pedro's arms were bound tightly behind his back. He was mounted upon a pony and thus brought ingloriously back to the camp.

So the mission of the Hardy boys to Mexico was finally crowned with success. Pedro Vin-cenzo, in captivity, proved to be a frightened coward. When he learned that Tremmer was no longer afraid of him and that the former bookkeeper had promised to give evidence for the State, he talked freely and exposed all the crooked dealings of his a.s.sociates in the Rio Oil Company. In so doing he hoped to win favor, but it gained him little. For the abduction of Juan and for many other crimes which were traced to him by the Mexican authorities he was sentenced to a long term in prison.

As for Elmer Tremmer, he returned to Bay218 port with Mr. Hardy and the boys-to say-nothing of the dog Egg-and went on the wit*