"
All this time they had been walking across the starlit landing field,
where could be seen Bob's airplane, and now they drew near the
brightly-lighted radio station.
Entering the sending room they were confronted by Muller. That young
German operator, whose perspicacity almost had caused their undoing
and whom Jack earlier had floored with a blow on the chin, was sitting
in a chair reading. He had returned to the station after the attack
of the Mexican regulars had been beaten off.
Muller jumped to his feet, surprise giving way to anger, but before he
could draw and level the revolver swinging at his hip, one of the
Mexican guards accompanying the boys pushed them aside and thrust
himself forward.
"None of that," he said in Spanish. "The General has commanded that
these young Americanos be well treated. They are friends."
"Friends," muttered Muller, sullenly, nevertheless withdrawing his
hand from the revolver butt. "That wasn't a very friendly way to treat
me awhile ago."
He turned to Jack.
"And why, if you are friends," he demanded, "do you two appear in the
clothing of Herr von Arnheim and Captain Morales?"
"A number of events have occurred," said Jack, quietly. "That is why.
However, Don Fernandez has heard the tale, and that is sufficient.
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