e seeking their homes and beds. As for
Frank, he was talking most of the time of the supper he was hoping to
get before long. The boys did not care to enter a conspicuous
restaurant, and so they chose an obscure eating house on a side street.

At first glance the place seemed without customers as they entered, and
the boys were glad to have the room to themselves, but as soon as they
were seated two men came in and took seats at a table not far away from
their own. The men were dusky fellows, with long hair and sharp black
eyes. They ordered sparingly, as if they cared little for food, and,
after glancing furtively around the room, spent their time in whispered
conversation.

Fremont thought he saw something familiar in one of the men, and kept
his eyes on his face until the coarse features, the sullen grin, became
associated in his mind with the Cameron building in New York. It did
not seem possible that this could be true, yet there was a face he had
seen in the corridors of the great building, and every moment the
identification was becoming more definite.

"Ever see that man before?" he asked of Frank, nudging the boy and
pointing with his fork, held so low down that it could not be seen by
the others.

"I'm sure I have," was the reply. "He was at the hotel when I went
upstairs to your room," Frank went on. "I remember now."

Before anything more could be said the two men arose and approached the
table where the boys sat. Railing at the adverse fate which had
brought him in contact with this man after a successful flight from the
New York police, Fremont arose and darted toward the door. He gained
the doorway before the other could seize him, and there turned to look
back.

Shaw had not been so fortunate in escaping the grasp of the Mexican,
for such he appeared to be. When Fremont looked back the fellow was
trying his best to throw the boy to the floor, while his companion
stood by with clenched fists. The boy was about to turn back to the
assistance of him chum when he saw with joy that this would not be
necessary.

CHAPTER VII.

SIGNALS ON THE MOUNTAIN.

Fremont saw that Frank was putting up a nervy battle with the man who
had seized him, and was in the act of going to his assistance when
Frank made a quick motion which seemed to bring every muscle in his
body into action, and the Mexican shot into the air, landing, finally,
on the back of his companion, and going to the floor with him.