CHAPTER XVI

ON TO ROLAMOTAZA

A number of little caves and caverns had been formed in the tunnel with its partial collapse, and Nat Ridley, hearing the approach of someone at the outer end and seeing the darkening of the shaft, acted quickly.

"In here!" he whispered to Cora as he guided her into one of the caves. He thrust himself in after her and the two remained there, scarcely daring to breathe. They listened anxiously and heard voices talking in Spanish.

"I wish I knew what they were saying," whispered Nat. "I can understand some Spanish, and read it and write it, but I want to make no mistake about what they are saying."

"I can tell you," and the girl's voice was as low as his own. "I studied the language before taking this position."

"Good! What are they talking about?"

Cora listened while the voices went on--two of them--and the sound of footsteps could be heard penetrating the tunnel.

"One said," reported the girl, "that it was useless to look in here for that pig of a Bill Brice, the hardware man. I don't know who they mean."

"I do," chuckled Nat. "They mean me."

"But I thought you said your name was Nat Ridley?"

"I assumed a disguise to come here, and also took another name," the detective replied. "I was Bill Brice for a time."

"Then they are looking for you?"

"So it seems. But what else are they saying?"

Cora listened further and once more whispered:

"One seems to think you might be in here and the other doesn't." There was a further exchange of excited Spanish talk and Cora added: "There, the one who says it would be useless to search in here has his way about it--they are going off."

"Good!" softly exclaimed Nat. "I'd hate to have another fight on my hands," and he put his automatic back in his pocket.

The two, crouched in the hole amid the shattered stones, listened and heard the searchers retreating. They had come only a little way into the tunnel.

"I guess we're safe now," murmured Nat. "If no more come until after dark, we'll be out of here."

"Where are we to go?" the girl asked.

"That is something which must be considered," decided Nat. "I must learn more about the double dagger crowd before I will be in a position to arrest any of them. El Capitan is the leader, I think, but I am not sure. As soon as I get out of here I'll make up a little different and scout around. As for you----"

"They will probably be on the lookout for me," interrupted Cora. "Oh, I am so afraid they will kidnap me again!"

"They probably would attempt to get Cora Ardell into their power," admitted Nat. "But I fancy they will have no use for Miss Belle Stanton, the sister of James Stanton, who has come here looking for a ranch to buy."

"Who is James Stanton?" she asked.

"I am going to be," chuckled Nat. "And you are going to be my sister--that is, if you have no objections."

"Of course, I haven't. I need a brother--very much!" and she smiled wanly at him as they moved back toward the exit of the tunnel where the air was fresher.

"Then this is my plan," went on the detective. "When we go out of here, which we will do after night falls, we will so alter our appearances as to look like a man seeking to buy a ranch and his sister who is accompanying him. We will find a quiet boarding place where I can leave you while I scout around a bit."

"But how can you disguise me and yourself?" asked Cora.

Nat took from his pocket a small but very complete make-up box, such as those used by moving picture actors, and explained how he could change Cora's face and his own.

"Our clothes won't matter greatly," he said. "But I can change mine a bit, and I should think, by sort of pinning up your skirt on one side, perhaps making some flounces or ruffles in it----"

"Oh, how did you know so much about dresses?" asked Cora, with a laugh.

"I was married--once," Nat answered in a low voice. "My wife died when my son was a little fellow."

"Oh, I am sorry--forgive me!"

"It is all right," Nat said. "Now to business."

They talked over their plans, and Cora told more, as she remembered it, about the Tola gang. Nat made mental notes of her information. The day wore on, and no more intruders came to the ruined tunnel. The exit from it appeared to be removed some distance from the Cordova Club--or what was left of that organization's headquarters after the bomb explosion.

The two ate again, and drank some more of the water, which kept cool owing to the evaporation properties of the porous jar in which it was contained.

Then as the glow of the sunset was fading, Nat began to disguise himself and the girl, making a much better job of it than was to be expected under the circumstances.

When it was dark the two went out of the tunnel, first having made an observation that showed that the way was clear. They found themselves near a narrow street, or rather, an alley, that led to the main thoroughfare on which the club was, or had been, situated.

"Let's stroll past and see it," proposed Nat.

"Suppose they discover us?"

"In cases like this the bold way is the best," declared Nat. "They would never look for us at the very place where they had had you a prisoner. Come on--it will be perfectly safe."

It was. The clubhouse was not as greatly damaged as Nat and Cora had feared, but it was put out of use as a club, temporarily at least, and, as the detective had surmised, the police were in charge. The two made their way through the curious throng, but there was no sign of El Capitan or any of his men.

A little later "James Stanton" and his sister had secured lodgings in a quiet boarding house, and Nat, venturing back to the hotel where he had left his baggage, claimed it.

He asked the landlady's daughter to go out to buy some clothes for Cora, explaining that he and his sister had come away in a hurry, and there seemed to be no thought but that everything was all right.

Having told Cora not to worry, Nat, in his new character, went scouting about town that evening, frequenting several places where, so he learned, Mexicans, both Spanish and Indian, fond of nightlife, congregated. In one way and another he picked up considerable information about oil wells in general and the Lemberg wells in particular.

"But I wouldn't advise anybody to take stock in those wells," said a grizzled plainsman for whom Nat bought some liquid refreshment while the sleuth himself indulged in a black cigar.

"Why not?" asked Nat. "Not that oil is my line," he added. "I want a ranch."

"And, as I told you," said his companion, "I can put you on to some bargains in that business. But if any of your friends are thinking of buying oil shares, let them lay off the Lemberg derricks."

"Why so?"

"Because it ain't healthy," was the answer. "Too many folks connected with those wells have passed out."

Nat was interested, but could glean little of real value from his informant except in a general way, which confirmed his first suspicions. The Tola gang, either from motives of guarding ancient rights or for more worldly reasons, since the borings had proved of such great value, wanted back the wells they had sold.

But certain things which Nat picked up caused him to go to the local telephone exchange a little later that evening, where he put in a long distance call for New York. He knew his talk would not be overheard or cut in on by any outside person if he talked from a booth in the telephone office.

Presently Nat was speaking to Berry Todd and giving that somewhat surprised sleuth some instructions, part of which were to be conveyed to Baldy Stoler.

"Are you all right, Chief?" Berry wanted to know.

"So far," was all Nat said. "I'm counting on you now!"

"And you won't count in vain!" Berry assured him. "We'll soon join you."

When Nat got back to the boarding house he found a note under his door. It was from Cora and said:

"When you come in, no matter what time it is, slip a note under my door saying you are safe. I shall not be asleep."

Nat smiled and scribbled on a leaf of his notebook, going out into the hall to slip it under the girl's door. As he did so he thought he saw a figure slinking away down the corridor--the figure of a man who seemed to have been listening at the girl's door.

In a flash, all of Nat's suspicions returned, and he hurried to the head of the stairs. But there was no one in sight and he thought he was mistaken and that it might have been either the landlady, her daughter, or one of the maids making a usual round of the house to see that all was right.

As Nat slipped the bit of paper under the door he heard Cora's voice asking:

"Are you all right?"

"Quite so," he replied. "And you?"

"All right. Only I fancy someone is watching outside my window."

"Imagination," said the sleuth in a whisper. "You're all right. Go to sleep."

Nat slept soundly, so soundly in fact that he had to be called by the landlady. He had left a message when going out in the evening, that if he was not stirring by eight o'clock he was to be roused. But he was a little surprised when he heard the woman's voice saying:

"It is after eight, sir!"

"I'll be right down to breakfast!" Nat said.

"Is my sister up?"

"Your sister isn't in her room, nor has she been down to breakfast," said the landlady. "Perhaps she went out for an early morning walk. None of us have seen her."

Nat stifled an exclamation of alarm that rose to his lips, and, hurrying into his clothes, went to Cora's room. She was not in it, and there was some indication of confusion about the apartment. The bed had not been slept in, but there was evidence that the girl had stretched out on it without turning back the covers. It seemed she had not undressed.

"She's gone!" exclaimed Nat.

"Has anything happened?" asked the landlady.

"I--I'm afraid so," was the answer. "Was there any disturbance in the night--I mean here in your house?"

"I heard you come in," volunteered the landlady, "and then I heard you go into your sister's room. I heard you talking, and then some time later I thought I heard you and her going out."

"I didn't go into her room," said Nat, trying not to show his excitement. "I spoke to her from outside, that was all. Then I went to bed. But she is gone--she must have gone out after I was asleep."

"Then she went out with some man," said the woman.

"Rather, some man took her out!" cried Nat. "I see it now! They have kidnapped her again, the scoundrels! I thought I saw someone spying at her door when I came in. I wish I had searched farther than I did. Yes, they have kidnapped her again!"

"This is terrible!" gasped the landlady. "I will call the police!"

"No!" Nat stopped her with a gesture. "I will handle this case without the police. I'm a detective."

He told the excited landlady enough to satisfy her, pledged her to secrecy, and then began to examine Cora's room. One of the first things he found was the note he had written her. But scrawled on the back, though not in Nat's writing was the one word--_Rolamotaza_.

"It's a clew she left for me!" mused the sleuth. "The Tola gang have taken her there. Well, it's me for Rolamotaza as fast as a train can take me! The devils! They get ahead of me every time!"

A few hours later Nat Ridley was headed for the Mexican city where the Lemberg oil wells were located.