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I had all set for next morning: my roadster at Capehart's for repair, old Bill tipped off that I didn't want any one but Eddie Hughes to work on it; and to add to my satisfaction, there arrived in my daily grist from the office, the report that they had Skeels in jail at Tiajuana.
"Well then if you don't mind Worth, I'll go and use Vandeman's phone put my office wise to these Brundage clews of yours." Worth nodded. No social scruples were his. I had by no means given up the belief that Skeels in jail at Tiajuana, would still turn out to be one of the gang.
"Well, Jerry, old socks," Worth hailed my news as I followed out to his car where he was starting for San Francisco, and going to drop me at the Capehart garage, "Some luck! If Skeels is in jail at Tiajuana, and what I'm after to-day turns out right, we may have both ends of the string."
And Worth did take his time admiring her; I saw that; but all he found to say was, "Bobs, I suppose Jerry's told you that he's treed Clayte at Tiajuana?" "No," said Barbara, "he hasn't said a word. But I'm just as much surprised at Clayte's being caught as I was at Skeels escaping capture." "Say that over and say it slow," Vandeman was good natured.
One of my pieces of mail concerned the Skeels chase. If my men down there had Skeels, and Skeels was Clayte, it would mean everything in handling Cummings and Dykeman. I took out the report and ran hastily through it; a formal statement; day by day stuff: "Found Skeels and Dial at Tiajuana. Negotiating to buy saloon and gambling house. D. was his partner in proposition.
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