I met a boy named Frank Shaw, and he said the Black Bears were getting ready to do something for you, though he would not say what it was." "Good old Frank!" exclaimed Fremont.
"The Black Bears are loyal," Nestor went on, "and so are the Wolves.

We may hear from both patrols after we cross the Rio Grande." "I wish some of them were going with us," said Fremont, with a sigh.
"If I am not mistaken," Nestor said, with a frown, "we'll have plenty of company on the way down.

We may not see our traveling companions, but they will be close at hand." "Do you mean that the police will trail us to Mexico ?" asked Fremont.
"I don't know," was the reply.

"I give it up.

There are others beside the police to reckon with.