On the other hand, if they were not in search of Fremont, they might
render valuable assistance in running down the men who had taken
him away. It was rather a hard place to put the loyal little
fellow, but he proved equal to the occasion by reserving his
decision until further information concerning the new arrivals
should be at hand.
"His name is Smith," he replied, shortly.
"And why did these unknown people abduct Smith?" laughed the officer,
who understood from the manner of the boy that the name was a fictitious one.
"I don't know," was the truthful reply.
"Well, we'll look into this later on," said the officer. "Just now we've
got to travel down this hill and see what Ned Nestor is about."
The officer talked with his men in whispers for some moments, and Jimmie
saw that they were all anxious about something. Finally, directing two
of his men to remain under arms at the tents, he set off down the mountain
with the other four. As they disappeared Jimmie beckoned the drummer aside.
"What do they want of Ned Nestor?" he asked.
"They want some information he has," was the reply. "They were sent here
to confer with him. Did you think they were Greasers because they wore
the ragged clothes over their good ones? Huh! They had to do that, and
talk Spanish, too, in order to get in here. The insurrectos think they're
new recruits."
"Who are they? asked Jimmie. "What do they want to see Nestor for?"
"They are United States secret service men," was the reply.
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