. "I only hope La Nogalique is
better than it sounds. If we can put up there for the night you'll get
a little rest, and maybe I'll have this carburetor adjusted. I don't
like the way it's acting."

"Oh, good, sweet, kind carburetor, don't go back on us now!" implored
Rosemary, kissing her hand toward the engine of the car. "Be nice and
I'll sprinkle you with violet talcum powder when we get to Uncle
Henry's!"

"Don't be silly!" grunted Floyd.

"Let's go!" called his sister. "It's getting late, and according to
this map it's ten miles yet to La Nogalique--which means twenty if we
are going by past performances."

The car sped forward, the trail seeming to grow worse instead of
better, as might be expected if they were approaching a town. Lurching
from side to side, making sharp turns to avoid bowlders and holes,
Floyd guided the machine. 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!"

Nestling in a small valley was a smaller town, its few buildings
showing plainly in the last rays of the sun which would soon set behind
the mountains and hills.

"Guess we're not so badly off after all!" exulted Floyd. "We'll sleep
in real beds tonight!"

"And I take back what I--er--_thought_ about you!" laughed his sister.

"Thanks for not _saying_ it!" chuckled Floyd. "I admit I was guessing
myself a while back, for that trail looked as though it was heading
straight for no place in particular. But we're all right now."

However, as they descended the slope, approaching the town, it became a
question in both the mind of sister and brother as to whether they were
all right. 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.

"Probably some Mexicans have come over the border, and are celebrating
a feast day," observed his sister. "This must be about the border line
between the United States and Mexico."

"I reckon," conceded Floyd.