"Perhaps he won't have a baby camera hidden under his coat! laughed Frank.

"What are you going to say to him, boys, when you take him?" asked Teddy.

"We ain't going to say anything," Jimmie answered, "We're just going to get him!"

"Be careful, boys," was all Ned said as Frank and Jimmie left on their dangerous mission. "Be careful!"

After they had disappeared up the slope Ned turned to Jack.

"You saw one act of the play yesterday," he said to him. "Suppose you come with me now and see another act."

Jack came forward with outstretched hand and downcast face.

"Say, Ned," he said, "I'm sore at myself!"

"What's that for?" Ned asked, shaking the hand heartily and lifting the boy's face by taking him by the chin. "Why are you sore at yourself?"

"Because I acted like a dunce when we left chimney rock without signaling to Jimmie," was the reply, "and because I grumbled like a bear with a sore head when you suggested that Bradley be captured."

"You had a perfect right to express your opinion, my boy," Ned said.

"Yes, but I might have known that you knew what you were about. To be honest, I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw you bringing Jimmie back."

"The least demonstration on our part at that time," Ned said, then, "might have caused the men who were guarding Jimmie to shift their quarters. Besides, I wanted Bradley in the toils before I made the final break."

"But he wasn't when you released Jimmie," Jack suggested.

"He will be before the final card is laid down," Ned replied. "But come," he went on, "we must be moving if we get to the cottage before the trouble begins."

"I'm all in the dark," Jack said, "but I'm willing to take your judgment now."

Ned and Jack hastened away, traveling down the slope to the west and south so as to get to the cottage in the quickest possible time. When they came in sight of the structure they saw Mary Brady sitting in the doorway, her head bent forward, her face buried in the palms of her hands.

She arose at the sound of their footsteps and advanced with outstretched hands to meet them. There were tears on her face and her manner was excited.

"You came too late!" she cried, wringing Ned's hand. "They have taken him away."

"When?" asked Ned, leading the old lady into the cabin.

"Oh, I don't know when! Sometime in the night. I awoke and saw that the bed was empty and called to Bradley. He arose and has been looking for him ever since."

"He was just up at our camp--looking!" Ned said, with a wink at Jack.

The old lady now went to a cupboard and brought forth a gla.s.s in which a dark fluid rested. A small black brush stood against the side of the vessel.

"I found this for you, as you asked," she said.

Ned examined the contents of the gla.s.s and made a mark on a white paper with the brush. The color transmitted to the paper was a light brown, not black.

"You washed the boy, as I asked you to?" Ned then enquired.

"I tried to," was the reply, "but Bradley said he would take him out and give him a swim in the run down in the valley. He wouldn't let me touch him."

"Well, what did the pillow case show this morning?"

The old lady pointed to the white paper.

"It was stained like that," she said.

During this talk Jack had been standing looking from Ned to the old lady with all shades of expression on his face. Now he spoke.

"Say, Ned," he almost gasped, "what is the meaning of all this?"

"Wait a minute!" Ned said, facing the old lady again. "And you listened to their talk when they sat together last night?"

"Indeed I did, sir, and its the first time I ever played the spy!"

"What was Bradley saying to him?" asked Ned, then.

"He was saying French words over and over for him to repeat!"

Jack dropped into a chair and looked helplessly at his chum.

"Foolish little French phrases, like one finds at the back of any dictionary?" asked Ned. "He was repeating them so that the boy could say them after him?"

"Yes, sir, that is just it."

"Now, Jack, what about your prince of the royal blood?" asked Ned.

"I gather from what I hear that he was painted," said Jack, with a shamed look in his eyes. "Painted!"

"Sure he was!" cried the woman. "Painted and taught foolish little French words to say! But he is Mike's boy! I know that!"

"This is like the Arabian Nights!" Jack cried.

"Worse!" Ned declared, "for all my plans have gone wrong with the disappearance of the boy."

CHAPTER XVIII

BRADLEY BECOMES INDIGNANT

Frank and Jimmie hastened down the slope to the west, after toiling up and crossing the broken summit, and soon caught sight of the man they had been instructed to take prisoner. Bradley was walking swiftly, his haste not at all matching the leisurely air he had affected at the camp.

"How do you feel now?" asked Jimmie, wrinkling his nose at Frank.

"How does it seem to be a bold, bad gunman?"