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"Did you happen to hear what town it was in Arizona that the Yaquis raided?" "It was La La wait a minute now. It was one of those crazy Spanish names. I'll tell you La La La Nogalique that's it!" "La Nogalique!" cried Mr. Merkel, and he looked at the letter from Rosemary. "That's her!" affirmed the cowboy. "Why why!" exclaimed the ranchman, "that's the way they were coming in their auto!
The cowboys, too, were glad that they would have some regulars with them. "And now let's get this story in proper shape," suggested the captain. "Lieutenant Snow, you'll get ready to take as many men as you'll need and herd the rascals back over the border, or at least to La Nogalique. It may be that the United States Marshal there will want to deal with them himself.
The sound of shooting was resumed as she spoke, and shouts and yells came to Floyd's ears. He began to understand what had happened, his surmise being borne out, later, by the facts. La Nogalique is a town in Arizona, just on the Mexican border. In fact so close is it that in places only a barbed wire fence separates the possessions of Uncle Sam from those of the Mexican republic.
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.
With a shower of gravel, scattered by the sliding feet of his hastily-reined pony, the man drew up in front of the group. "Mr. Henry Merkel here?" he asked, crisply. "Here," said Bud's father, quietly. "Got a telegraph message for you. It's from La Nogalique!" "La Nogalique!" murmured Mr. Merkel. "Oh, I hope Rosemary " With a rapid motion Mr. Merkel tore open the yellow envelope.
"The last meal I had for nothing was given me by Hank Fowler." "Hank Fowler!" cried Bud. "The sheriff?" added Nort. "Who sent on to Mr. Merkel the message from Rosemary?" completed Dick. "Rosemary that's for remembrance," quoted Rolling Stone with a smile. "I know her not, and yet Hank Fowler is a sheriff to my certain knowledge." "Do you mean the one from La Nogalique?" persisted Bud.
However they had started, and were making as good time as possible. Messages had passed between Mr. Merkel and those in authority at La Nogalique, and the probable route of the kidnapping Yaquis was indicated as well as could be. This saved a long trip to the border in order to get on the trail of the Indians from the time they had taken Rosemary and Floyd.
Always of a nondescript type, dirty, ragged and greasy, the Yaquis were even worse now, for they had been on the trail for some time, and had taken part in at least two fights. They had had no time to recuperate since making the raid in La Nogalique.
There aren't enough men in La Nogalique to cope with them except troopers come. And they're far enough off." "Just give in, and hope for the best. But don't let them separate us whatever whatever you have to do." There was a catch in the girl's voice, but this was the only evidence of fear she had shown. She was a true "sport."
Now and then Rosemary would glance at her brother, after a particularly vicious jolt, but she said nothing. "A good sport!" Floyd mentally voted his sister. They topped a steep rise, and as they started down the other slope, making a turn, Rosemary pointed ahead and exclaimed: "There! Now we're all right! La Nogalique!"
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