“I wouldn’t go tonight, if I were you,” cautioned the captain.
“It isn’t a question of fear. It is rather a question of a fight, and I know you don’t want to get into a fight.”
“I don’t know as I should exactly say we wanted to get into a fight; but we wouldn’t mind if something should happen that would give us a chance to take a fall out of our friend, Don Rafael.”
“I see!” he said. “All you want is a chance, and you’re not so particular who furnishes it. But, take my advice, and don’t get into trouble tonight. Things are too unsettled, and I don’t want to be obliged to make a raid into Mexico to rescue you. I have even had to answer quite a few questions about the trouble we had the other day over by Don Pablo’s.”
“All right,” laughed Billie. “We won’t get into any trouble. We will just see this wonderful peon, and put a flea in his ear, and then we’ll come back.”
“Just as you say,” was the captain’s answer. “I’m sure you are able to take care of yourself.”
Bidding the captain good-night, the boys called for their horses and slowly rode across the river.
Presidio del Norte is not a large town, but as it is on the line of the Orient railroad—which at this particular time was in process of construction—it was quite a lively place for a Mexican pueblo. It is built around the inevitable plaza, the stores all facing thereon, and, when the stores and the little booths in the plaza are all lighted, becomes quite an attractive spot.
Drawing up at one of the booths, the boys accosted an intelligent-looking peon, and stated their errand. He looked at them a bit suspiciously, but finally agreed to help them find the object of their search.
“Follow me,” he said, and, turning away from the brightly lighted plaza, led them down a dark and narrow street. “Pancho is a poor man, _señores_, and does not live in a very nice place.”
“He didn’t need to tell us that,” laughed Adrian. “We still are able to see.”
“No,” said Donald to the guide, “you do not need to apologize. We understand that Pancho is an honest man, which is more to his credit than to live in a fine house.”
The Mexican led them about four or five squares and stopped before a miserable little adobe house.
“_Aqui’sta!_” he exclaimed, and knocked loudly on the half-open door.