"
"Maybe so," Bob modestly agreed. "You put up a stiff fight."
"You're an American, aren't you?" asked Frank. "What's your name? And
how do you happen to be with these fellows?"
"Why not?" said the other, answering the last question first. "I'm a
rolling stone and joined up with this outfit because it looked like
something doing. And that's what I want. As for my name, it's Roy
Stone. And you guessed right. I am an American. Born an' raised in
Wooster, out in Ohio."
He paused and looked curiously from one to the other of the boys. Tom
Bodine was examining the two other prisoners for possible injuries
needing attention. Stone nodded toward him.
"I can place a fellow like that, all right," he said. "Know this kind
down here on the border. But who are you? You're only kids. What's
your game? Are you with Obregon?"
"No, indeed," said Bob. Turning to Jack, he whispered:
"Is it safe to tell him who we are? He's an American. And, somehow, I
have an idea he might help us."
"Well, it won't hurt, I guess," said Jack, doubtfully. "He might
escape and betray us to rebel headquarters, but I suspect we can guard
against that. Besides, he's bound to find out our identities, because
those other two chaps will recognize you.
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