“Mr. Rollins must be pretty tired,” he said, glad his face was averted because he feared the scorn in his eyes would betray him.  “And we’ve all had a hard day.  Suppose we let the discussion go until tomorrow.”

Rollins spoke precipitately, and Jack believed there was a little note of relief in his voice.

“Yes,” said he, “that would be better.  I am pretty tired, as Jack says.  Well, I’ll turn in.  Good night.  I’ll see you at breakfast and after that we can have our talk.”

Shaking hands with Mr. Temple and throwing curt nods to Bob and Frank, Rollins left the room.  A moment later Jack arose and followed swiftly but silently to the door on the gallery.  Peering around the doorpost cautiously, he assured himself Rollins had entered his own room, then returned.

The others looked at him in surprise, unable to understand the meaning of his actions.  Jack soon enlightened them.

Crouched before the fire and with his eyes on the door for signs of interruption, while the others pulled their chairs close about him, Jack in a low voice outlined his experiences of the night.

When he spoke of Rollins’s using the radio, Frank uttered an exclamation.

“That’s how the enemy learned just what time we would arrive,” he declared.

Jack shook his head.

“No,” said he.  “All Rollins had to do to spread that information was to tell Remedios.  The latter could notify the men who laid for us.”

“Well, then, whom was he telephoning to?”

Jack again arose and moved to the door and peered out.  No signs of life.  He returned and resuming his position said in a low voice: 

“That’s what I’ve been asking myself.  I’ve thought it over and I believe I’ve found the answer.  Either he was radioing to the Calomares ranch in Old Mexico where father probably is held a prisoner, or else he was sending a message to the fellows who stole our airplane.”

Bob, the belligerent growled in his throat.

“The big stiff,” he muttered.  “I’ll go get him now and we’ll choke it out of him.”

He half rose from his chair, but his father pushed him back.

“Don’t blame you, Bob,” said Jack, grinning.  “It’s what I wanted to do myself.  But I believe there is more to be gained by watching Rollins—­at least until we have more to go on.”

“Probably,” said Frank, “if we put it up to him now, he’d be able to lie out of it.”

“But he couldn’t lie out of being seen with Remedios,” said Bob.  “Or of using the radio.”

“Frank is right, though,” declared Jack.  “Rollins would frame some alibi, and all we’d succeed in doing would be to put him on his guard.”

Mr. Temple had been thinking deeply.  Now he interrupted.

“Jack is probably correct in his surmise as to who Rollins was calling by radio,” he said.  “Probably this Calomares ranch is headquarters for the Mexican rebels who are making trouble for us.  If it was the ranch that Rollins called, he may have been making his report on today’s proceedings.  But if he was calling the airplane, that is a more serious matter.  It may mean trouble for us tonight, perhaps another attack.”