somehow he felt sure that it would meet with success; but for a long time it did not seem so. Finally, however, as Adrian began to think the Captain might better take charge of the arms, he noted a strange figure on the opposite bank of the Rio Grande. He was a little man, and, as nearly as Adrian could make out, old.
“He doesn’t look like a gun runner,” thought Adrian; “but you never can tell.”
At first the little man did not appear to be looking across the river at all; but as Adrian watched, he saw that the man on the other shore carried a pair of field glasses.
“That means that I must lie mighty low,” muttered Adrian to himself, and he hugged the ground tight, behind the mesquite bush.
The man at length leveled his glasses and peered long and earnestly—not only at the rapid-fire gun, which showed most prominently—but at all the bushes up and down the river for some distance.
“He certainly knows what he is looking after,” thought Adrian, “but I don’t believe he will come over in the day time.”
For the time being at any rate, Adrian was right; for after some minutes spent in observation, the man returned his glasses to their case and walked rapidly away.
Slowly Adrian withdrew from his position, backing out on hands and knees until he was hidden
from the other bank. Then, rising, he hastened to where he had left his friends.
“Well,” was Billie’s greeting as soon as Adrian came in sight. “I hope you discovered something to pay us for going without our dinner.”