observed the
head of the civil engineers. "We might have been able to get some
information from him. However, if he's gone that's the end of it. I
think the best thing you can do, Porter, is to send a night message to
this Mr. Basswood, telling him how the note was received and repeating
it word for word. Then the responsibility for what may follow will not
rest on your shoulders."
Our hero thought this good advice, and, aided by his chum, he
concocted what is familiarly known as a Night Letter, to be sent by
telegraph to Crumville.
On the following day came a surprise for our hero in the shape of a
short message from Ben Basswood which ran as follows:
"Yours regarding Porton received. Crapsey makes another offer.
Pair probably enemies now. Will write or wire instructions
later."
"This is certainly getting interesting," remarked Dave, after having
read the message. He turned it over to Roger. "I guess Ben is
right--Crapsey and Porton have fallen out and each is claiming to have
the miniatures."
"Well, one or the other must have them, Dave."
"Perhaps they divided them, Roger. Thieves often do that sort of
thing, you know."
"Do you suppose Ward Porton is really around that Bilassa camp in
Mexico?" went on the senator's son.
"Probably he is hanging out somewhere in that vicinity. I don't think
he has joined General Bilassa. He thinks too much of his own neck to
become a soldier in any revolution."
Having sent his message to the Basswoods and received Ben's reply,
there seemed nothing further for our hero to do but to wait. He and
Roger were very busy helping to survey the route beyond the new
Catalco bridge, and in the fascination of this occupation Ward Porton
was, for the next few days, almost forgotten.
"If the Basswoods expect you to do anything regarding that note you
got from Porton they had better get busy before long," remarked Roger
one evening. "Otherwise Porton may do as he threatened--destroy the
pictures."
"Oh, I don't believe he'd do anything of that sort, Roger," answered
Dave. "What would be the use? I think he would prefer to hide them
somewhere, thinking that some day he would be able to make money out
of them."
Four days after this came a bulky letter from Ben Basswood which Dave
and his chum read eagerly. It was as follows:
"I write to let you know that Tim Crapsey has been caught at last.
He was traced to New York and then to Newark, N. J., where the
police
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