His question brought back a response in Jack Stovall’s clear voice which made all three give a lusty yell of joy.
“Sure! They never touched us!”
Then, in answer to a rapid volley of questions, the young Ranger added: “So ye actually saw all that big bunch, eh? Who were they——? Why, United States soldiers of course—a scoutin’ party. They heard the Mexicans firin’ from away up the river an’ beat it this way for all they were worth. Lucky for us, too.”
“Yes, but for that a whole lot of the men might have given us the slip,” remarked Alvin. “Between the two of us, we soon had ’em swinging along on the back track. The soldiers did most of the firing—shot over their brown heads, too, which was a pretty polite response, considering the fact that the Mexicans started the scrap.”
“One of the Texas Rangers’ jobs is to see that undesirable citizens o’ Mexico can’t cross over the border whenever they git a notion into their heads they’d like to!” put in Jack Stovall. “So to-day, boys, we’ve earned our pay.”
“True enough,” laughed Sergeant Howell. He turned toward the historian. “How’s that, Dave—where did the soldiers get to? Oh, the bunch started right off in the other direction.”
“Yes, they know’d well enough the Mexicans had enough of the American side for to-night,” grinned Jim Roland. “They was in such a rush to git back they never even stopped to leave their visitin’ cards.”
“I do hope there wasn’t any ‘watchfully waiting’ crowd all ready to tackle the poor chaps the moment they reached the other side,” remarked Sam, thoughtfully.
“As we haven’t heard any fireworks, I guess it’s all right,” said Don.
All the way back to camp, every member of the party kept a sharp lookout, but not a sign of life was to be seen on the Mexican shore.