lix if necessary. I came here
for that."

"Great Scott!" whispered Frank. "I reckon this chap got just what was
coming to him! Only he ought to be hanged!"

"Hush!" whispered Nestor. "Look!"

Big Bob opened his eyes wider, shot out one hairy hand, gave a
convulsive motion which shook his great frame so that the floor of the
frail hut trembled, and then the end came. Later, when the body was
given rude burial, the original will was found in a pocket of the dead
man's coat, together with letters from his brother, Cole Tolford,
asking him to go to New York, search out Mother Scanlon, and protect
his son.

"Congratulations are in order, Mr. Black Bear!" Shaw whispered, as the
papers were handed to Fremont, "but, somehow, I feel like waiting until
we get back to little old New York before showing any enthusiasm. This
has been a tragic trip."

The other members of the party seemed to feel the same way, for the
revelation of the dreadful plot and the death of Samuel Tolford, known
as Big Bob, had cast a gloom over the party which not even the clearing
up of the mystery could shake off.

CHAPTER XXV.

READY FOR THE CANAL ZONE.

"This is the end of the case," Frank Shaw said, covering the face of
the dead man with a handkerchief. "Fremont is free to go back to New
York, taking his mine with him! Nestor was right when he declared that
the solution of the Cameron mystery lay on this side of the Rio Grande."

"But the object of our visit has not yet been accomplished," Nestor
said, "and so I can't go back with you. Perhaps you would better leave
me in charge of the mine!"

"You are wrong," Lieutenant Gordon said, then, "the object of our
journey is accomplished. I was ready to announce the fact when you
stopped me to listen to the last words of the poor wretch who lies
there."

"Do you mean that the arms and ammunition were stopped on the other
side?" demanded Nestor.

"That is what the signals said! When I left Don Miguel in charge of
the secret service men at San Jose and came back into the hills to find
you, I left word with the men to climb to the top and signal if the
news came that the arms had been stopped. I don't know just how they
got the news, but it is undoubtedly reliable. The arms are in Uncle
Sam's possession. The rag-tag-and-bob-tail-of-creation fellows we have
seen skulking about here will have to go away without a fight."

"That is too bad!" grunted Frank. "I wanted to see a raid