“Precisely, pard—precisely. I was it. In my perambulations I discovered our horses, and it struck me as being something a whole lot proper to get them outside and have them where we could straddle them in a hurry when we took to our heels. I muffled their feet with the aid of blankets, and I can lead the way straight to them.”
“Brad, you’re a dandy!” laughed Frank softly. “Watch out for Carlos and lead on, you son of the Lone Star State.”
They had come down into the courtyard when somewhere above, amid the ruins, there was a sudden sound of high-pitched voices, followed by a single pistol shot. Then came silence.
“If fortune is still with us,” said Merry, “the bullet from that pistol lodged in the carcass of Carlos. Evidently he has kicked up some sort of trouble, and I fancy a little chap by the name of Ramon fired that shot.”
Outside the ruins they came upon the horses where Buckhart had concealed them. They were not long in mounting. Frank took up Felicia behind him, and away they rode into the night, with no hand raised to stay them.
CHAPTER XII—A LIVELY FISTIC BOUT.
CHAPTER XII.
A LIVELY FISTIC BOUT.
Three days later they arrived in San Diego, where Felicia was returned to the home of Mr. and Mrs. Staples, the former having given up the search in despair.