The Esmeralda slipped downstream with no lights in sight. Whenever they came to a long stretch of river the motor was set in motion, but ordinarily it remained silent.
Of course the boys were unable to pick out the localities for speeding, they being strangers to that section of country, but here Buck and Rube proved very capable guides.
They knew the upper Rio Grande as the schoolboy knows his primer. In fact, knowing the stream so well, it was remarkable that they had never before landed at Hayes. But Hayes is a small place, and, besides, they had never had occasion to visit the burg.
At ten o’clock a slow rain began falling, and, the boat at the time being just around a point of land from a creek, Buck, who was in charge, shut off the power and permitted the craft to drift.
“Do you see anything that looks like a light?”
It was Rube who asked the question.
At that instant, almost before the words were off his lips, came a low whistle of warning.
“There they are!” said Case.
“Keep still,” admonished Clay.
The boat drifted on, past the mouth of the creek, and let an anchor drop silently into the water.