“Indeed you won’t,” chimed in Pedro. “I remember what you did for me.”
The night passed slowly to our boys, and they were up the following morning at sunrise. Coffee was served soon after, and still the rurales had not arrived.
A few minutes later the messenger sent to summon them returned to say that, owing to a report that a quantity of arms were to be run across the river lower down the Rio Grande, most of the rurales had been sent thither, and would not return till morning. This meant they could not possibly reach the Hacienda del Rio before noon.
“That settles it,” declared Donald. “I’m going to find Billie.”
“And I, too,” said Adrian. “I’ll bet the place the rurales have gone is at the same place we lost old Bray.”
“Where was that?” asked Don Antonio.
“At the hacienda of old Pablo Ojeda,” replied Adrian, and he told of their experience.
“I have heard of him often,” said Don Antonio. “He has always been suspected of smuggling across the border—not only cattle, but liquor, ammunition, and all dutiable goods.”
“I should think the rurales would lock him up,” said Pedro.
“They have, several times, but he has always