"I ought to use the knife," said Adrian, "but I guess this will
do."
With a bound he sprang to his feet and dashed to where Donald was
already performing his part of the work.
The plan had worked exactly as Adrian had figured, and in another
moment the boys were astride the horses and away toward Vera
Cruz.
But one thing they had not taken into consideration. That single
yell of their erstwhile prisoner had aroused the Mexican pickets
and from half a dozen directions came the sound of rifle shots
and then the sound of a bugle calling to arms.
Even while Adrian was running toward the horses, the excitement
had begun, and as the boys started on their homeward ride, a
volley from the encamped forces sent the bullets whistling by
their ears.
"This is no place for us!" cried Donald. "Don't be afraid to use
the spur. It is our only chance."
And now as they rode furiously forward, came the sound of firing
on their left and some distance ahead.
"What does it mean?" called out Adrian as they rode neck and neck
through the darkness.
"Search me, Ad; but our only chance is in our horses," and Donald
again plied the spur.
Outlined against the sky at the top of a small knoll, they could
see a small body of horsemen.
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