The foregoing conversation explains how it happened that on the morning of April 21, 1914, the Broncho Rider Boys looked down from a little hill, the top of which was covered by tropical foliage, upon the harbor of Vera Cruz, with the American fleet in the offing.
By a circuitous route and by two nights of riding, hiding in the day, the boys had reached this spot about an hour after sunrise.
"Whew!" was Billie's exclamation as he looked out across the harbor at the men-of-war flying the American flag. "There's a bunch of them, isn't there?"
"Sure is," from Adrian, "and they look peaceable, too."
"You never can tell by the looks of a toad how far it will jump," laughed Donald. "But peaceable or warlike, I'd like mighty well to be on board one of them."
"Here, too," from Billie. "I wonder how we're going to make it."
"How would it do for one of us to try and get into town and find the American consul?" queried Adrian.
"Fine," from Donald, "if he succeeded; but bad if he did not."
"Then what had we better do?"
"Give it up. Suppose we wait here a while and something may turn up."