"But," he admitted, "had we not fallen in with you, we would hardly have known where to find them."
"No, the last place you would look for them would be in a church," grinned Walt.
Soon after, the boys, having despatched a hasty breakfast, the cavalry set out. The boys rode in advance to guide them to the retreat of Black Ramon and his men. The professor ambled along, sitting uneasily on the saddle which had now been provided for him. It was a long time before he recovered from his bareback ride on the old ranch horse.
"If these fellows are Mexican cavalry, they are all right," said Ralph, admiringly looking at the easy riding and smart equipment of the fifty men under the friendly officer.
"They are rurales," explained the officer; "a section of the army kept especially for hunting brigands and robbers. Most of them are former brigands themselves, but there are no better men for the work."
By mid-afternoon they came in sight of the old mission, and, as they approached it, the boys gave a shout of astonishment, which was echoed by the professor.
Riding toward them, from the opposite direction, was a band of horsemen. Faster they came in their direction, seemingly spurring onward to destruction.
"Those greasers must be crazy," exclaimed Ralph, gazing at what seemed a suicidal act. "They're riding right at us."
Suddenly a dip in the foothills hid the approaching horsemen, but the thunder of their hoofs could still be heard. Could Ramon have an ambush on the other side of the rise, wondered Ralph.
The same thought must have come to the Mexican officer, for he gave a curt order and his men, bursting into a wild yell, drew their carbines from their holsters and prepared to use them.