THE MOTOR BOYS IN MEXICO.
[CHAPTER I.]
THE PROFESSOR IN TROUBLE.
“Bang! Bang! Bang!”
It was the sound of a big revolver being fired rapidly.
“Hi, there! Who you shootin’ at?” yelled a voice.
Miners ran from rude shacks and huts to see what the trouble was. Down the valley, in front of a log cabin, there was a cloud of smoke.
“Who’s killed? What’s the matter? Is it a fight?” were questions the men asked rapidly of each other. Down by the cabin whence the shots sounded, and where the white vapor was rolling away, a Chinaman was observed dancing about on one foot, holding the other in his hands.
“What is it?” asked a tall, bronzed youth, coming from his cabin near the shaft of a mine on top of a small hill. “Cowboys shooting the town up?”
“I guess it’s only a case of a Chinaman fooling with a gun, Jerry. Shall I run down and take a look?” asked a fat, jolly, good-natured-looking lad.
“Might as well, Chunky,” said the other. “Then come back and tell Ned and me. My, but it’s warm!”