A DARING ADVENTURE.
"Let me look, Billie," and Donald reached out his hand for the
field glass through which Broncho Billie was gazing down from the
summit of Real del Monte upon the plain of Quesco, through which
the Pachuca river winds its way. "Maybe I can make out who they
are."
Billie handed over the glass without a word and stood expectant,
while Donald scrutinized closely a body of horsemen--twenty or
more in number--which had halted beside the railroad that
connects the little city of Pachuca with the City of Mexico.
"They are not soldiers, that's certain," was Donald's comment
after he had inspected the riders carefully for a couple of
minutes.
"That's what I thought," from Billie. "They look like a bunch of
_vaqueros_ to me; but what would a crowd of fifty cowpunchers be
doing in a country where the only cattle are goats?"
"That's right!" laughed Donald, greatly amused at Billie's odd
expression, "but still that is what they appear to be. Perhaps
they are expecting a drove of cattle up on the train."
"More likely they are expecting a load of bullion going down to
the City of Mexico," remarked the third of the party. "What do
you think, Pedro?" turning to the fourth of the boys who composed
the quartette.
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