Part 4 (2/2)

”You have traced Baron to the border,” Ramon said, ”and that is the first important step. Now we here must do our part. Our plan is good, I think. But of course no plan is good unless it works. Even with our check points established at approximately every twenty-five miles, so that we will certainly know the general area where they leave the highway, they may still slip through our fingers.”

Sandy, who had spent much of the previous day studying maps of Mexico, said diffidently, ”But there aren't many side roads leading off this highway that they could take, are there?”

”Not many main roads,” Ramon agreed. ”But there are countless small lanes that are pa.s.sable in dry weather-and this is still the dry season. It is helpful to know that there are two cars to look for,” he added more cheerfully. ”If we pinpoint the general area, and send up our scouting planes, two cars should be easier to see than one.”

”Then you're not going to arrest the driver of the gray coupe for having forced you off the road?” Sandy asked. ”Isn't there a chance he'd talk?”

”Too risky,” Mort said decisively. ”If he's picked up now, they're likely to suspect we're on their trail. Surprise is our best weapon. If Ramon is the only police officer they've spotted so far, they may think they're in the clear now-and this may inspire just the degree of overconfidence that leads to carelessness.”

52 .

A moment later Ken was pulling to a halt before the customs-house inspection post.

Ramon got out of the car and identified himself. The inspector saluted smartly, listened to Ramon's rapid instructions in Spanish, and then disappeared inside the customs house.

”You are free to proceed without the formality of an inspection,” Ramon said dryly. ”The car I use will have a radio,” he went on, ”and any of our highway posts can flash a message to me. I will maintain a position a few miles to the rear of you-far enough behind to spot any attempts they may make to conceal themselves temporarily and then double back on their tracks.”

”Right.” Mort nodded. ”We ought to reach the agricultural inspection post at Cienega de Flores in about fifteen minutes. So you might telephone ahead there and tell them to release the two cars a quarter of an hour from now. Then we'll be right behind them.”

”I will do that.” Ramon shook hands briefly with all three of them, in the traditional Mexican gesture of farewell. ”Good luck, amigos. I will expect to pick you up, Mort, at the station nearest the point where the cars leave the highway. At that point we dismiss our young friends with grat.i.tude-no?” Once more his white teeth flashed.

But his final words were sober. ”Be careful. They have much at stake, these bandidos.”

CHAPTER V.

DELAYING TACTIC.

THE DISTANCE from the customs inspection post to Cienega de Floras was seventeen miles. Phillips had told Ramon Gonzalez that they would reach the agricultural station in fifteen minutes. Ken concentrated on his driving.

Once he had to brake to a sudden halt to avoid running over a burro that unexpectedly trotted to the middle of the road. And once, near a narrow bridge, he had to wait while a whole family loaded themselves and half a dozen wicker baskets aboard an already crowded bus. But most of the time he kept the speedometer needle hovering over the seventy mark.

Exactly fifteen minutes after they left Ramon, Phillips pointed far ahead to a small white structure at the side of the road. There appeared to be a car drawn up in front of it, but the distance was too great to identify its shape or color.

”The binoculars are in the glove compartment,” Ken reminded Sandy.

Sandy had them out in an instant.

”Thanks.” Phillips grinned briefly as he accepted

53.

54 .

them. ”If you're trying to convince me I made a wise decision in coming along with you, you're doing a good job.” For a moment he peered intently through the gla.s.ses. ”That's the gray coupe, all right. And it's just pulling out.”

Ken had reduced his speed while Phillips explored the situation ahead. Now, at a gesture from Mort, he stepped down on the accelerator for the last few hundred yards that brought them up to the inspection post.

A uniformed inspector stepped forward immediately, looked at the convertible's license plate, checked it with the number written on a slip of paper in his hand, and then saluted.

”They have just left,” he reported. ”The red car is two minutes ahead of the gray.” His handsome young face lighted briefly with a smile. ”I believe I am to be reported to my superiors for delaying them unnecessarily. I explained that because insects are quite small it is necessary to search for them with great care, but they found this thoroughness most irritating.”

”I'll report your thoroughness myself,” Phillips told him, ”with grat.i.tude.”

”Gracias, sefior. In the red car,” the inspector added, ”one of the men carried a brief case which he a.s.sured me contained nothing but papers. In accordance with my instructions, I did not insist upon examining that particular piece of luggage.”

”Excellent,” Phillips said. ”And now if you'll send a message back to Gonzalez, we'll be on our way. Tell him we reached here in good time, and are right behind them.”

”Si, sefior. Immediately.”

”Gracias.”

The inspector saluted once more as the car moved off.

DELAYING TACTIC 55.

Sandy unfolded a map of Mexico so that the area around Monterrey was visible.

”Twenty-three miles to Monterrey,” he muttered, and glanced at the speedometer. ”That's about twenty-five minutes, at this rate.” He sighed. ”Don't you suppose there's a chance your friends might stop there for lunch, Mort? I'm getting hungry.”

”I suppose there's a chance,” Phillips said. ”If they haven't turned off the road by then-which,” he added, ”we don't really expect them to do. The country beyond Monterrey is much hillier than this, and we a.s.sume the hide-out is somewhere in the hills. It stands to reason they'd choose a spot in country that is little traveled and little known. Anything on the plains around here could be too easily spotted.”

He, too, studied the map for a moment. ”This highway goes straight through Monterrey, of course. But three other good roads leave the city. So our checkup in Monterrey must be very careful.”

Ten minutes had gone by and as many miles. Already there were signs of the approaching city. Roadside billboards advertised hotels and restaurants, tires and beverages. People on bicycles and others on foot had joined the thickening traffic stream.

”Close up a bit,” Mort said, ”if you can.”

Ken struck an open stretch and picked up even more speed. But in another few miles he was forced to drop down below fifty.

”I never saw so many buses in my life,” he muttered, swinging around one only to find himself behind another.

”Easy!” Sandy cautioned suddenly. ”I think I caught a glimpse of the gray coupeY'

Ken ducked ahead of a big truck loaded with cattle 56 THE MYSTEKY OF THE GREEN FLAME.

and stuck his head briefly out of the window. ”Right,” he reported. ”He's about five cars ahead, pocketed behind a tank truck.”

At the end of another five miles they were forced to slow down to thirty. They had reached the outskirts of the city proper. Dairies, factories, and housing developments edged the highway now, and buses stopped at brief intervals to pick up or discharge pa.s.sengers. Cross streets became more numerous.

And then suddenly they were in the heart of bustling, highly industrialized Monterrey. Ken found himself crawling forward between one of the inevitable buses and a gleaming new limousine.

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