's flying column now. You couldn't have kept
the appointment better if you had arranged to meet us at some spot in
New York."

"I'm glad we're on time," said Jack, not knowing exactly what else to
say.

The lad was thunderstruck, as well he might be, by the turn events were
taking. He wished fervently, however, that they knew whom they were
expected to be and why their coming had been awaited with such
eagerness.

"I say, you know," rattled on the other, who seemed to be a pleasant
natured enough chap, "that trip of yours through that hole in the
ground has mussed you up a bit."

"It certainly has," agreed Jack, more and more mystified; "it's a
pretty rough voyage."

"That's what, and going through that blamed trap in the Mesa, like a
comedian in an extravaganza, isn't the least unpleasant part of it. It
was a pretty slick trick of Ramon's to find that out, although, I
guess, some old Indian gave him the tip."

"It's a great scheme," put in Walt Phelps, finding his tongue at last.

"You chaps are a good deal younger than I expected to find you,"
rattled on the stranger, "but I suppose you've seen lots of service."

"Yes, lots of it," put in Ralph, throwing some fervor into his tone.
He felt that they had indeed, in the last few hours, seen service
enough for a lifetime. Jack inwardly rejoiced as the others found
their tongues. He had dreaded that the suddenness of the emergency
might have proved too much for them. Both lads were rising to it
gallantly, however. Now, if only he could find out who on earth they
were supposed to be, they might yet escape from the predicament into
which they had fallen.

"Now let's introduce ourselves," went on their new acquaintance,
evidently not the least bit suspicious now. "My name's Bob Harding.
Which of you chaps is Con Divver?"

"Right here," said Jack, motioning to Walt.

"And Jim Hickey and Ted Rafter?"

"I'm Jim and here is Ted," responded Jack, his heart beating like a
trip hammer. It was a daring game they were playing.

"That's good. Now we all know each other. I think that Americans
enlisted in this sort of service should be on good terms, don't you?"

"I certainly do," rejoined Jack warmly.

"Fine! I'll bet we'll make good messmates. And now here comes Madero
himself. If you fellows will come with me, I'll introduce you in form.
Do you 'spiggoty'?"

"Do we what?" asked Jack wonderingly.

"Spiggoty. Talk this greaser lingo?"

"Not very