loor and turned inquiringly to
Nestor.

"Wait!" the latter said. "We shall have plenty of time for
explanations later on. This man is dying, and there is something he
wishes to say."

The secret service men, standing before the fire and swarming over the
two rooms, uncovered their heads and checked the questions on their
lips.

Again Fremont stooped over the big fellow, and again the lips opened,
but again there came an interruption. A sharp report came from the
outside and Lieutenant Gordon hastened to throw the door open. A
rocket was mounting the sky, its red light giving the floor of the hut
a tint of blood.

It was followed by another, and another, then the lieutenant stepped
out and saw code signals flying in the night above the peaks to the
west!

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE STORY OF THE CRIME.

Lieutenant Gordon stood for some moments reading the signals flashing
from the mountain, and the boys, regardless of the storm, clustered
about him. They were unable to understand what was going on, of
course, not being familiar with the code, but still they were greatly
interested in the proceedings.

"It must be good news!" Jimmie whispered to Frank Shaw. "Look at him
grin!"

The lieutenant did appear to be pleased with the information he was
receiving by means of the vaulting rockets, but he said nothing until
the signaling ceased, and then he made his way into the hut. He was
about to speak when Nestor laid a hand on his arm.

"Wait," the boy said. "This man cannot last much longer, and it is
imperative that we listen to what he has to say."

Jim Scoby, sitting against the wall near the hearth, groaning dismally
with the pain of his broken leg, cast a keen glance at the big fellow
and smiled--an ugly smile which informed those who saw it of his belief
that Big Bob was now beyond the power of speech. Indeed, this did seem
to be the fact for a moment, but then the renegade opened his eyes and
motioned to the lieutenant.

"I want to tell you who attacked Cameron!" he said.

A string of curses escaped the lips of the watchman, but they were
almost unnoticed in the excitement caused by the words of the dying man.

Nestor and Fremont drew nearer at a motion from Big Bob. Seeing that
his profanity did not avail, the watchman set up a loud cry, in fact, a
succession of loud cries, as if with the intention of drowning the
voice of the speaker. He was silenced only when one of the secret
service men thr