However, as they descended the slope, approaching the town, it became a question in both the mind of sister and brother as to whether they were all right. When they came near enough to see and hear plainly it became evident that something unusual was going on in La Nogalique, if such was the village in view.
There was the popping of guns and intermittant shouts, while figures could be seen riding wildly to and fro amid the scattered buildings.
"Guess there's some sort of a celebration," commented Floyd.
"Probably some Mexicans have come over the border, and are celebrating a feast day," observed his sister. "This must be about the border line between the United States and Mexico."
"I reckon," conceded Floyd. "But say, I don't just like this! Look, those men are shooting at each other!"
He stopped the car and pointed to two groups of horsemen who, undoubtedly, were firing at each other with evil intent. For as Rosemary and Floyd looked, several men toppled from their saddles, and their steeds rushed wildly to and fro.
Then, as the travelers sat in the machine, looking down the last slope that led to the town, a solitary horseman came clattering up the rocky trail.
"Turn back! Turn back!" he shouted. "Don't go down there!"
He was attired as a cowboy and spoke good United States.
"What's the matter?" demanded Floyd, as he let the car roll to one side to give the horseman room to pass.