unday, and nothing more was seen or
heard of Ward Porton although the lads made a thorough search for him.
Dave sent letters home and to Ben Basswood, telling the folks in
Crumville of what had happened.

"A little greaser to see you, Dave," remarked one of the civil
engineers as Dave was coming from an unusually difficult afternoon's
work.

He walked to where his fellow worker had pointed, and there saw a
dirty, unkempt Mexican lad standing with a letter in his hand. The
communication was addressed to Dave, and, opening it, he read the
following:

"I have broken with Tim Crapsey and have the Basswood miniatures
here with me safely in Mexico. If the Basswoods will pay me ten
thousand dollars in cash they can have the pictures back.
Otherwise I am going to destroy them. I will give them two weeks
in which to make good.

"As you are so close at hand, maybe you can transact the business
for Mr. Basswood. When you are ready to open negotiations, send a
letter to the Bilassa camp, across the border, and I will get it.

"WARD PORTON."

CHAPTER XXVII

ACROSS THE RIO GRANDE

Dave read the note from Ward Porton with intense interest, and then
passed it over to Roger.

"What do you know about that!" exclaimed the senator's son, after he
had perused the communication. "Do you think Porton tells the truth?"

"I don't know what to think, Roger. If he does tell the truth, then it
is quite likely that Tim Crapsey was trying to play a double game so
far as the Basswoods were concerned."

"It's pretty clever on Porton's part," said Roger, speculatively. "He
knows it would be very difficult for us to get hold of him while he is
in Mexico, with this revolution going on. And at the same time he is
close enough to keep in touch with you, knowing that you can easily
transact this business for the Basswoods--providing, of course, that
Mr. Basswood is willing."

Dave did not answer to this, for he was looking around for the Mexican
youth who had delivered the note. But the boy had slipped away, and a
search of the camp failed to reveal what had become of him.

"I guess he was instructed to sneak away without being seen," was our
hero's comment. "Porton knew that I wouldn't be in a position to
answer him at once, and he didn't want me to follow that boy."

Dave read the note again, and then went off to consult with Frank
Andrews and Mr. Obray.

"It's too bad you didn't capture that little greaser,"