The rain continued to descend almost in sheets.
“This must be the way it rained in the days of Noah,” Billie suggested.
“Yes,” replied Adrian, “and it looks as though it might continue for forty days. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“What had we better do?” asked Billie, thinking about the ride back to Presidio.
“What can we do?” echoed Donald. “We never could find our way back to the Rio Grande in this rain, and, if we did, we would find it so full of water we couldn’t get across. The only thing we can do is to stay right here till it stops raining.”
And stay they did.
The afternoon passed and darkness fell. The peon brought in a candle stuck into a most unique candlestick, which must have been the property of some ancient Don. The boys wondered where he got it, but did not think it wise to inquire. They
knew too little Spanish to engage in anything like a general conversation with the man, but they did manage to get enough out of him to discover that he was much dissatisfied. Why, they could not make out.
Along about nine o’clock, the peon and his wife betook themselves off to the other hut, which served as their main house, and the boys, piling their saddles in the doorway, to keep out any stray dog that might be prowling about, rolled themselves up in their blankets, stretched themselves out on the floor, and were soon asleep.
How long he had slept, Billie could not tell, when he was awakened by a most unusual noise. The rain was still falling, although not in such torrents. At first Billie thought that the noise was caused by the rain on the thatched roof; but he soon became convinced that such was not the case. Finally he reached over and shook the sleeper nearest to him. It happened to be Adrian.