“I shouldn’t wonder if a storm is brewing,” he said finally. “I predict we’re in for a good soaking.”
“Let it come!” exclaimed Tom, recklessly. “That’s a heap better than falling in with a lot of Mexican Revolutionists.”
“I’m not bothering about them,” rejoined Bob, with a smile, “not enough at least to make me wish we had crossed the Rio on the International bridge. Guess this trip will be adventureless enough to suit even Dave.”
“Say, Bob,” exclaimed Tom, suddenly, “isn’t it a wonderful thing about Cranny? I never heard of his wanting to work before; have you?”
“Truthfulness compels me to answer in the negative,” chuckled Bob.
“And what’s even stranger, he seems to do the work just right. Ever hear of anything like that before, eh?”
“A second time, no, Tom.”
“Anyway, it’s a mighty encouraging sign.”
Then Tom suddenly switched off to another subject.
“I noticed a very odd thing about Jimmy Raymond,” he declared. “Every time I happened to mention the Texas Rangers he looked awfully queer. Honest he did, Bob. I’ll just bet he isn’t staying in Mexico for nothing!”