The Pony Rider Boys in Texas; Or, The Veiled Riddle of the Plains

E-text prepared by Curtis Weyant, Mary Meehan, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net/)


What's that?
Guns, I reckon.
Sounds to me as if the town were being attacked. Just like war time, isn't it?
Never having been to war, I can't say. But it's a noise all right.
The freckle-faced boy, sitting on his pony with easy confidence, answered his companion's questions absently. After a careless glance up the street, he turned to resume his study of the noisy crowds that were surging back and forth along the main street of San Diego, Texas.
Yes, it's a noise. But what is it all about?
Fourth of July, Ned. Don't you hear?
Hear it, Tad? I should say I do hear it. Yet I must confess that it is a different sort of racket from any I've ever heard up North on the Fourth. Is this the way they celebrate it down here?
I'm sure I don't know.