“Why, Mr. Mayor,” rejoined Jack, “these two gentlemen are officers of the Mexican Federal troops detailed to aerial duty.”
“Waal, what be they doin’ this side of ther Border? I’ve a good mind ter put ’em in ther calaboose, the dern long–horns,” declared the mayor angrily.
“Inasmuch as they saved a lot of children and their teacher from rough treatment by a band of rebels, I don’t think that would be very fair,” said Jack.
“Humph!” grunted the mayor, “I was comin’ out hyar to git ther mavericks on ther run myself, but I had an attack of indigestion.”
“I guess that was when you heard the shooting,” thought Jack to himself.
Aloud, though, he continued:
“The Mestizos were captured by as clever a ruse as can be imagined, Mr. Mayor.”
“Eh, how’s that, young feller?”
“By a bottle of Epsom salts.”
“Say, see here, kid, it ain’t healthy ter git funny with yer elders in these hyar parts.”