"We've worried considerably while aboard the train, Jack," said Mr.
Temple, "for fear something dire might happen to you these last two or
three days. I'm glad to see you are all right. Any word from your
father?"
Jack shook his head in negation. "Not a word," said he, "since those
two rascals picked him up in your airplane and headed for Old Mexico."
"Well, don't worry, Jack," said Mr. Temple. "I don't believe his life
is in danger."
"I'm trying not to worry, sir," said Jack. "But now that you and the
fellows are here, we shall have to get busy at once. It has been
pretty hard to wait for you. I wanted to ride into Old Mexico myself
at once."
Bags in hand the group was moving to the rear of the station, and now
came in sight of a ramshackle automobile with a Mexican at the wheel,
easily distinguished by his swarthy coloring and his ragged mustaches,
as well as by his peculiar dress--a steep crowned hat like a sugar
loaf, with a very wide brim, a tight bolero jacket that did not reach
to the waist and disclosed a dark blue silken shirt beneath and
tight-fitting trousers that flared at the bottom.
"That is Remedios and his flivver," explained Jack. "He does odd jobs
all through this region.
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