"Come on, let us get out of here," remarked Roger, as he looked with disfavor at the squalor presented. "How can human beings live like this, Dave?" "I don't know, Roger. This place ought to be burned down--it's the only way to get it clean," Dave added, shaking his head in disgust over the sight. Less than fifty feet away was the corner of the main building of the ranch. Peering out cautiously, to make sure that no one was watching them, the two chums hurried across the open space and crouched down beneath a wide-open window. Then Dave, pistol in hand, looked in through the opening. The room beyond was deserted, and a glance around showed him that it contained little besides some heavy pieces of furniture which the looters had evidently been unable to remove. On a table rested several empty liquor bottles, and also a number of cigar and cigarette stubs. On the floor were scattered newspapers and some playing cards. "The fellows who were here evidently got out in a hurry," remarked Dave. "Are you going to go in?" questioned Roger. "I guess so. What do you think about it?" "I'm with you, Dave. Now we have gone so far, we might as well finish the job." It was an easy matter for the two chums to climb through the low window. Once in the room, they advanced toward a doorway leading to an apartment that opened on the _patio_ of the ranch home--an open courtyard which had once boasted of a well-kept flower garden, but which was now neglected and overrun with weeds. As Dave gazed out across the _patio_ he saw a movement in a room on the opposite side of the ranch home. The face of a man had appeared for a few seconds. Behind him was some one else--who, however, Dave could not make out. "My gracious, Roger!" gasped our hero in a low voice. "Did you see that fellow?" "I saw some one." "It was William Jarvey!" "Jarvey! Are you sure?" "I am certain of it. Now what do you think of that!" "I'm sure I don't know what to think, Dave. Maybe he is making his headquarters here, the same as Ward Porton." "I am going to try to find out. Come on." Our hero made a quick mental calculation as to the ground plan of the ranch homeland then he and Roger began to work their way from one room to another, and then through a long, narrow hallway, until they reached the other side of the building. Here they paused at the end of the hallway to listen. From a room close at hand came a murmur of voices. By straining his ears Dave made out the tones of William Jarvey. The former bookkeeper for the Mentor Construction Company was evidently talking to another man, but what was being said was not distinguishable. "It's Jarvey all right enough," whispered Dave. "Yes. But that isn't Ward Porton with him," returned Roger. "I know it. It's some man." Both continued to listen, and presently heard William Jarvey give a sarcastic laugh.