“You won’t have any trouble in getting home now, will you?” he asked, turning to Pedro.
“Oh, no; and are you going back to the Rio Brava?”
“To the what?” asked Donald.
“The Rio Brava.”
“He means the Rio Grande,” explained Adrian. “The Mexicans call it the Rio Brava, and that is the way it is on their maps. I saw one of their geographies once.”
“Then we’re going back to the Rio Brava,” laughed Billie, “and I hope we get there before it begins to rain.”
Whereupon, bidding good-by to Pedro, who was
most profound in his thanks, they started on their return ride.
They had not been riding more than half an hour before the clouds, which had been getting blacker and blacker, became so angry-looking that they determined to seek shelter, and turned their horses’ heads toward one of the little cluster of houses they had passed earlier in the day.