eard was made by a bird winging its way through the
dim upper light. Then, in a moment, signals flashed out again.

"One, two, one," counted Jimmie, "Now, two, one, one, two, two, one,
and then one, two. That means come. Now, where does he want the other
fellow to come?"

"There's a lot going on here to-night," said Fremont. "I wonder if
they can see us from where they are?"

"We may as well get away from the tents," was the reply. "There's a
good place to hide behind that rock. When Nestor and Frank come we can
let them know where we are."

Fremont agreed to this, and the lads were soon hidden in a shallow
gully which cut a ridge not far from where the tents had been pitched.
For a time all was still, then came the rattling of steel on steel,
sounding threatening enough in the darkness.

"Some one's got a gun," whispered Jimmie.

"Our fire may have been seen from above," Fremont ventured.

"Well, they can't find us here," consoled Jimmie. "Anyway, we'll lie
here and listen for a few minutes."

The boys lay quiet for a considerable time. There were no more signals
then, but they could not banish the feeling that emissitious Mexicans
were watching them from the shadows. Directly noises were heard at the
tents and a voice asked, in good English:

"Where are they? You said that only two went down the mountain."

"That was right," was the reply. "I don't see where the others can be."

"Do you think they are officers?" asked Jimmie, as the men stumbled
about the tents. "They aren't Mexicans."

"I'm afraid they are officers," replied Fremont, "and we must keep
pretty still. I presume these are the fellows who were wig-wagging a
little while ago."

The intruders were heard moving about the tents for a time, and then
they went away, blundering along over loose stones which rattled as
they swept down the declivity. When they were some distance off, and
still going, judging by the sound, the boys walked back to the tents
and tried to sleep, but the excitement of the time was too much for
them, and they could not keep their eyes closed.

After a time there came a commotion in the valley below, from the
direction Nestor and Frank had taken. There were shouts of rage and
then shooting. Jimmie was on his feet instantly.

"They're attacking Nestor," he cried, "and I'm going down there to help
him."

Before Fremont could protest the boy was off, scrambling down the
mountain in the darkness like a go