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“I catch him. Not catch any other—Mexican.” The way the Indian said the last word showed the contempt he felt for the boy who had sold out his friends. About noon they reached the port, where Ferdinand was fortunate enough to obtain a small vessel; but the wind was unfavourable, and it was past midnight before it was possible for them to embark. “Getting a little interesting,” ventured Bob..

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The bunch of Mexicans Jerry had sent off on the wild goose chase the night of the raid came straggling into camp during the early hours of the morning, to find that a tight ring of guards had been made around their section of the lower camp. When they attempted to get through they were put under arrest and during the day were loaded on a train and shipped to the border to be sent back into their native country. The captured bandits were delivered to General Pershing’s headquarters to await trial. Johnny Blossom could think of nothing more to write about, though he stared long and hard at the walls. His examination report? No, he would not write about that, for there were some 9’s for conduct and some marks for lessons that were not as high as one might wish. No, there was not an atom more to write. So the letter was signed: As he was revolving these things in his mind they came to an opening in the thick brush. It lay right on the edge of the river, close to which they had been traveling. Evidently it was the place that had been decided upon as his prison, for, almost screened by the encroaching scrub oaks, was an adobe hut. Bob could not imagine what it had been used for. As they approached it in the gathering gloom of night, it did not seem to have any opening except a door. No windows were visible from the direction in which they came and Bob doubted if there were any on the other side. “You bet,” answered Bob. “I’ll never forget ’em.” For a moment he said nothing, letting his thoughts drift. Then—“But where is the job? You said it wasn’t here.”.