"I don't know what to think, Roger. If he does tell the truth, then it is quite likely that Tim Crapsey was trying to play a double game so far as the Basswoods 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 Basswoods--providing, of course, that Mr. Basswood 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. Basswood, 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 Basswood which ran as follows: "Yours regarding Porton received. Crapsey 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--Crapsey 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 Bilassa camp in Mexico?" went on the senator's son. "Probably he is hanging out somewhere in that vicinity. I don't think he has joined General Bilassa. He thinks too much of his own neck to become a soldier in any revolution." Having sent his message to the Basswoods and received Ben's reply, there seemed nothing further for our hero to do but to wait. He and Roger were very busy helping to survey the route beyond the new Catalco bridge, and in the fascination of this occupation Ward Porton was, for the next few days, almost forgotten.