"Then we must guess from that Puss and Sandy have fallen into the hands
of the rebels, since there are no government troops up here, the senor
said," he observed, presently. "Are they gaining on us now, Andy?"
"I don't think so," replied the one who held the glass, "though Puss
seems to be getting a whole lot of speed out of his Gnome engine right
now. Reckon he must have overhauled it, or else found some way to put
her up another notch."
"How strange to think that our old rivalry is being renewed away down
here in this country, thousands of miles from home," remarked Frank,
after a while.
"Huh! seems to me there would be something doing if you happened to run
across Puss Carberry at the other side of the world," declared Andy.
The race kept up for some time, neither seeming to gain to any
appreciable extent. Of course both boys were keyed up to a state of
intense nervousness. Passing through the air at this fearful speed fully
five hundred feet above the ground was surely enough to excite them. One
little accident and they would hardly know enough to give a single shout
of horror before the end must rush upon them. And yet Frank appeared as
cool as though sitting beside a camp fire, laying out some contemplated
air cruise on paper.
Andy was full of complaints.
"Aw, now, whatever do you suppose those measly old insurrectos want to
chase us for in this style?" he growled.
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