They had so many times almost given up hope of ever reaching it, that when the broad and almost deserted square, simmering in the rays of the blazing sun, actually did appear before their eyes, Cranny blurted out almost hilariously:
“Say, fellows! That’s certainly one o’ the finest sights I’ve ever seen!”
“I’ll never forget it!” said Bob, in a strained, tense voice.
Without having any definite plan other than to get a few moments’ rest, the three urged the mustangs toward the stable.
The revolutionists they knew would be swarming through every part of the town in a very short time. What sort of treatment could they expect to receive at their hands?
In their present state of mind, with the fate of the others still unknown, not one of the three could have brought himself to offer, as a solution to their own difficulties, a flight across the International bridge.
Dismounting before the stable door, they quickly led the mustangs inside.
“Hello!” exclaimed Tom, the moment his eyes had become accustomed to the gloomy shadows. “Do you see anything queer?”
“No, I don’t see anythin’ queer!” responded Cranny. “An’ why? Because it’s gone.”
“Which seems to prove that George Parry must have come here and taken the burro away,” said Bob.