They all had the grace to refrain from laughing, although the temptation was a sore one. The man of science, glancing suspiciously about him, was unable to detect the shadow of a smile on any of their faces, although the senorita did find it necessary to lean over and adjust her stirrup leather. When she looked up, however, her face was quite demure.
From time to time, as they rode forward over the level savannah, they glanced behind them. But the intervals grew longer as the distance between them and the Mexicans increased, and there was still no sign of pursuit.
“I guess they’ve discovered our escape, all right,” said Jack, “but don’t venture to chase us toward the town.”
“That’s it, I reckon,” said Coyote Pete, “and in any event, with our horses we could outdistance them all with a mile start.”
“All of them except that big black of Ramon’s,” said Jack.
“Guess you’re right,” agreed Coyote, “I’d like to know if there air any relatives of that animal hangin’ around. I’d buy ’em if it bust me. You don’t meet up with a bit of horseflesh like that every day of your life.”
An hour later, without any incident worthy of mention having occurred, they clattered through the sleeping town of Santa Anita, and, as daylight broke wanly, they found themselves outside the white walls surrounding the princely hacienda of the wealthy Don Alverado. But if the town was asleep, all seemed to be awake here. Lights could be seen flashing in the house which stood on a small eminence some distance from the outer walls.
As they neared the gate of the estate, it flew open and a dozen horsemen, fully armed, dashed out.
“Surrender, caballeros,” they cried in Mexican, “or we shall kill you without mercy.”
“Hold your horses,” hailed back Coyote Pete, quite oblivious of the fact that, in all probability, none of the horsemen understood that free and easy form of English.
But to the boys’ surprise the cow-puncher’s words were greeted with a shout of laughter from the advancing ranks, and a fresh young voice cried:
“We are Americans who have brought back the Senorita Alverado,” cried Pete, and was going on, but his words were drowned in a ringing cheer. The next minute explanations ensued. It appeared that the party which had sallied out at their approach was made up of young American mining engineers, resident in the neighborhood, who, on hearing of Don Alverado’s loss, had at once formed themselves into a posse.