Dave Porter and His Double Part 36

"Hurrah, Dave! you've disarmed him!" cried Roger.

For the instant Ward Porton seemed dazed by the sudden turn of affairs. Evidently, however, the blow from the steel bar had not hurt him much, for, turning quickly, he continued his flight along the bridge. Dave and Roger lost no time in following him.

It was not long before the fugitive and those behind him reached a section of the long bridge which was far from completed. Here there was practically no flooring, and Ward Porton had to jump from one piece of steel work to another, while Dave and Roger, of course, had to do the same. Once those in the rear saw the rascal ahead make a misstep and plunge downward. But he saved himself, and, scrambling to his feet, dashed forward as madly as before.

"Take care, Dave, it's dangerous here," gasped Roger; and scarcely had he spoken when he himself made a misstep and shot down below the level of the bridge flooring.

Dave was several feet in advance, but turned instantly when his chum let out a cry of alarm. He saw Roger four or five feet below him, clinging frantically to one of the stays of the bridge.

"Hel--help m--me!" panted the unfortunate youth.

"Hold tight, Roger. I'll help you," returned Dave, quickly.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "HOLD TIGHT, ROGER! I'LL HELP YOU," RETURNED DAVE, QUICKLY.--_Page 255._]

The stay below was so small in diameter that all Roger could do was to cling to it with both hands and one leg. In this position he hung until Dave let himself down several feet and managed to give him a hand. Then with extreme caution both worked their way back to the unfinished flooring of the bridge.

"Oh my! I thought sure I was a goner!" panted the senator's son, when he found himself safe once more. He had turned white and he was trembling from head to foot.

"I guess you had better not go any farther, Roger," remarked Dave.

"This certainly is dangerous work."

"It's a wonder Porton doesn't fall," was the other's comment, as they both watched the fleeing rascal, who was leaping from girder to girder with a recklessness that was truly amazing.

"He's scared stiff at the idea of being captured," was Dave's comment.

"If it wasn't for that, I don't believe he would take any such chance;" and in this surmise our hero was probably correct.

Dave hated to give up the chase, so he continued his way along the bridge, making sure, however, of every step and jump he took. Roger remained where he was, too shaken up to proceed farther when he knew that each step would prove more hazardous than the last.

At last Ward Porton gained a point where one of the foundations of the bridge rested on comparatively solid ground, with the river behind and a wide stretch of marshland ahead. Here there was a long ladder used by the workmen, and down this the rascal went as fast as his feet could carry him. By the time Dave reached the top of the ladder, Porton was well on his way over the solid ground. Soon the gathering darkness hid him from view.

Knowing that it would be next to useless to attempt to follow the rascal now that he had left the vicinity of the bridge, Dave returned to where he had left Roger. Then the pair started slowly back to the end of the bridge from which they had come.

"I can't understand what brought Ward Porton here," remarked Roger, when the chums had once more gained the swimming-place. "Do you suppose he knew you were in this vicinity, Dave?"

"Possibly, Roger. But at the same time, I don't think that would explain his presence here. He wouldn't dare to impersonate me around this camp. He'd be sure to be caught at it sooner or later."

"Well, I don't understand it at all."

"Neither do I. I am sorry that we didn't catch the rascal," returned Dave, soberly.

When they went back into camp they informed Frank Andrews, and also Mr. Obray, of what had occurred. These men had already heard some of the particulars regarding Dave's double and the disappearance of the Ba.s.swood fortune.

"Too bad you didn't get him," said Frank Andrews. "But you be careful how you run over that unfinished bridge, unless you want to have a nasty fall and either get killed or else crippled for life."

Several days went by, including Sunday, 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 Ba.s.swood, 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 c.r.a.psey and have the Ba.s.swood miniatures here with me safely in Mexico. If the Ba.s.swoods 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. Ba.s.swood. When you are ready to open negotiations, send a letter to the Bila.s.sa 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 pa.s.sed 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 c.r.a.psey was trying to play a double game so far as the Ba.s.swoods 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 Ba.s.swoods--providing, of course, that Mr. Ba.s.swood 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," 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. Ba.s.swood, 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 Ba.s.swood which ran as follows:

"Yours regarding Porton received. c.r.a.psey 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--c.r.a.psey 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 Bila.s.sa camp in Mexico?" went on the senator's son.