Chapter XXXII

MORE ADVENTURE AHEAD

"Farewell, Senor Jack Hampton."

Jack clasped the sprightly Spanish girl's hand, reluctant to release it. It was noon of the next day. Brilliant sunshine flooded the landing field of the Calomares ranch. Bob already had clambered into the pilot's seat of the airplane. Mr. Hampton stood to one side, exchanging farewells with Don Fernandez.

"Not farewell, Senorita," said Jack, ardently. "We must meet again."

The girl shrugged.

"But where?" said she. "Will you come back to capture our castle again?"

"No," said Jack, grinning. "But," he added, significantly, "I may come back—to capture one of its inhabitants."

Low though his tone was, the words reached the ears of Donna Ana, the ever-present duenna, and she glared at him. This was no way for a brash young Americano to be speaking to the daughter of the great Don Fernandez. Jack caught the glance and laughed. He turned to the duenna and extended his hand.

"Farewell, Donna Ana," he said. "It's been such a pleasure to meet you."

The wizened old duenna was nonplussed. She did not know whether to resent this pleasantry or be gratified by it. Mechanically she accepted Jack's extended hand.

At that moment, Bob called to him. Jack turned. Mr. Hampton already had entered the airplane. They were waiting for him. Once more he seized Rafaela's hand.

"Remember," he said, so low that only her ears could hear his words, "you haven't seen the last of me."

She cast him an arch glance.

"Senor Jack is improving," she whispered. "He will be a courtier yet."

Then Jack climbed into his seat. A mechanic started the propeller, the machine began to bump over the ground, and presently it was in the air and climbing.

Bob spiralled upward until they were high above the ranch, and the figures below seemed little manikins. Jack believed he could distinguish Rafaela waving a lacy handkerchief, and leaned far over the side to wave in reply.

Then they were off, zooming through the air, straight as an arrow for the international boundary and the Hampton ranch beyond. The flight was brief. Bob covered the distance of 150 miles in considerably less than two hours.

"Look here," he said to his father, after greetings had been exchanged, and the latter had thumped his big son so hard and often that Bob dodged when further "love taps" came his way. "I'm not going to stay here to be pounded into a jelly. Tell you what, father, that's a long ride up here from the cave. Frank started early this morning, but he cannot arrive for another day. Suppose I go back and pick up him and Roy Stone, and leave Tom to bring in the horses?"

Reluctant though he was to let his son depart so soon after regaining him, Mr. Temple was persuaded, and Bob set off. Far down in Old Mexico, back trailing over the route they had followed in entering the country, he saw three horsemen leading a fourth animal, and on approaching close, saw they were his friends.

Landing near them, Bob called an explanation of his mission. Roy Stone demurred at the proposal.

"Much obliged for the offer," he said, "but I'll ride along with Tom Bodine, if it's all the same to you. I'm in no hurry to get anywhere, and you fellows will be having your own reunion at your ranch. Take your chum with you, but leave Tom and me. We'll be in with the horses sooner or later. Each of us will have a spare mount now, and it'll be an easy trip. Anyhow, I never did like those airplanes."

"Same here," said Tom Bodine, staring with awe at the machine. "You couldn't get me in that thing on a bet."

Frank, accordingly, relinquished the reins of his horse to Tom Bodine, and with "good-byes" to his friends clambered into the airplane with Bob. Roy Stone obligingly spun the propeller, an accomplishment with which his association with Von Arnheim had made him familiar, and once more the plane soared upward and headed across the border.

At the ranch that night it was a jolly party that gathered around the board, with Mr. Hampton, Mr. Temple and the three boys. Gabby Pete, talkative as ever, was bursting with desire for information about all their adventures. He had prepared a surprisingly good dinner in honor of the occasion.

Rollins alone was not present. When told of Mr. Hampton's impending arrival, he had begged Mr. Temple to let him go to a distant oil well for several days until Mr. Hampton could be informed in detail of his treachery in the past and the reason for it. This Mr. Temple had agreed to.

Back and forth across the table flew the conversation and, when the meal was at an end, all continued to sit around the table until a late hour.

During the weeks that followed Bob and Frank spent many enjoyable hours rambling on horseback over the surrounding country and taking more extended trips by airplane. The love for the country of which Jack had spoken on arrival, seized them, too. The bright hot days succeeded by cool nights—for in New Mexico the air cools immediately upon the setting of the sun—appealed powerfully to boys reared on the seacoast. The absence of raw winds and fogs especially appealed to them. The weather was something which could be counted upon. Every day was fair.

So passed the weeks, with the boys under Jack's pilotage travelling far and wide, scouting through the mountains to discover new beauties of scenery, making visits to the ancient Spanish ruins at Santa Fe, attending a rodeo at Gallup, to which came cowboys and cowgirls from a vast stretch of territory to perform hair-raising feats of horsemanship and exhibit well-nigh miraculous skill with the lasso.

A month after their advent, and when their summer vacation was not yet half spent, Mr. Temple at dinner one night announced that before ending his prolonged vacation from business—the first he had taken in ten years—he planned to go to San Francisco to consult with the manager of his western exporting office.

"Why, father," said Bob. "I've always wanted to see the city by the Golden Gate, and I know the fellows feel the same way about it. What do you say to taking us with you? We won't get in your way. And you can drop us here on your way back East."

Smilingly, Mr. Temple gazed at the faces of the three eager boys. Jack and Frank enthusiastically echoed their chum's appeal.

"Yes, do, Mr. Temple," said Jack. "That is, if we wouldn't be in your way."

"Uncle, I'm crazy to see San Francisco," said Frank.

"Well, it's a good deal changed from the days of the Forty-Niners," said Mr. Temple, smiling. "You may have your hopes too high, and may be disappointed."

"Oh, come now, father," said Bob. "If you're going to be there only a week, it'll be worth while for us."

"Well, that's the length of time I planned to stay," said Mr. Temple, thoughtfully. "But I'll be pretty busy while I'm there. Do you boys feel you can keep out of mischief if left to yourselves?"

Mr. Hampton interrupted.

"I reckon they can, Temple," he said. "They saved the day for me. I'm beginning to think they are a pretty self-reliant lot. If you can see your way to doing so, take them along. The trip will be a fine experience."

"All right, boys," said Mr. Temple. "But you'll have to leave your airplane. If you are going to see San Francisco, you can't do it very well by airplane. And, anyhow, I wouldn't care to see you tackle the Rockies."

"All right, father," agreed Bob. "We'll be too busy seeing the sights to want the plane, anyhow. When do we start?"

"In two days," said his father.

With this we take leave of the three chums, whose adventures on the Mexican border have come to so successful a conclusion. But in the next story of "The Radio Boys on Secret Service Duty" we shall follow their further adventures after they reach the city by the Golden Gate—adventures fully as thrilling as those on the Mexican border, in which they become drawn into the plots of an international gang of smugglers engaged in bringing Chinese coolies into the United States in defiance of the Exclusion Laws.

THE END.