The double dagger or, Nat Ridley's Mexican trail

question of time when those Mexicans would have come down in the ruined cellar to look for me. El Capitan had reason for wishing me out of the way. I had a letter of his," and Nat put his hand in his pocket and took out the purloined missive which was still there. "El Capitan!" murmured the girl. "Do you know him?" "I heard the men who kidnapped me speaking of him," Cora answered. "He is the leader, it seems." "I guessed as much," answered Nat. "Well, so far, we are out of his clutches. Did you see what happened to the two Negroes and their Mexican friends?" "No. After the explosion everything was dark. But I found a flashlight in your pocket, and when I saw you were alive, but unconscious, I started to get you out of the cellar. I went up the place where the stairs had been, and then I thought this would be a good hiding spot." "They haven't found us here yet, at any rate," Nat said. "Though it will be only a question of time, I suppose. It is morning, I take it." "There is the rising sun," Cora confirmed him. "It is breakfast time, but we have nothing to eat." "And I think we would both be a bit better off for something," stated Nat. "I'm feeling much better now," he went on as he arose and stood up, for the tunnel, in which he had returned to consciousness, was high enough for this. He walked around and was quite himself again. "Where are you going?" asked Cora as she saw him walking back toward the incline of ruined stairs up which, at more cost and toil then she admitted, she had dragged him. "I'm going to see if I can rustle some grub, as the saying is," admitted Nat. "You mean to go back into that dangerous place?" the girl gasped. "I don't believe it will be particularly dangerous now," Nat answered. "That is, unless it collapses on me, and I guess all the stones that were to fall have come down." "I was thinking of that Negro and the Mexicans." "Oh, they're gone!" declared Nat. "You can make up your mind that after such an explosion as that the Paloma police are on the job. We seem to be quite a little distance away from the Cordova Club, but I imagine the place is mostly in ruins and there is probably a cordon of police around it now." "Then why not appeal to them?" the girl inquired. Nat Ridley shook his head, then stopped suddenly, for the pain shot back. "No," he said. "It is best to let the Tola gang think we perished in the ruins. If we went to the police it would soon be known. We will lie low for a time--remain here in hiding. When you're campaigning against an enemy," he went on, "the more you can fool and puzzle and keep him guessing the better. We'll let those Tolas think we're out of the running and then we'll jump in again when they least expect it." "Then you mean to stay here for a while?" "Until after dark, at least. We can go out then in comparative safety. But we'll need some water to drink and some food. There was the start of a supper in that room of the secret stairs just before the explosion. I think I can get enough to put us over until night." "I would like some water," admitted Cora. "And you need food," added Nat. "You stay here. I won't be gone long." "Be careful!" she begged him. "These are terrible men!" He nodded, and then crawled over the uneven pile of stones until he had found the inclined runway up which he had been dragged. When he saw it he marveled that the girl could thus have hauled him to a safe hiding place. Waiting and listening to make sure the way was clear, and hearing nothing, Nat Ridley made his way down into what, before the explosion, had been the room where the aged servant had greeted him. The table was tipped over and split, rocks and concrete having fallen on it, but from the heap of débris the sleuth managed to salvage some food. Fortunately, he also found an earthen jar of clean water. With this he returned to find Cora anxiously waiting for him. "I--I thought something happened to you," she faltered. "Enough has happened, and probably a lot more will," replied Nat lightly. "But I'm all right for the present. Let's eat!" The sun rose higher, moving away so that the golden beams no longer penetrated the tunnel. The two examined their hiding place and concluded that the tunnel was the secret egress from the Cordova Club cellar--an exit used in times of trouble. Nat was considering what his next move would be, and Cora was putting away what food was left, in readiness for the next meal, when there was a rattle of fallen stones and a form darkened the hole of the tunnel. "Someone is coming!" whispered the girl. 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