"There it is again!" exclaimed Walter.

"I see it, too," said Nan. "Rhoda, what can it be? Something is
surely moving this way on a road."

"That is the old Spanish Trail," said the Rose Ranch girl. "It is
the trail I told you about, by which the old _Conquistadors_
of Cortez reached this part of the country. And it is the most
direct road into Mexico."

"It must be some kind of caravan coming through there," said Bess
dryly.

"You are quite right," Rhoda declared. "A party of horsemen are
riding this way. And they are Mexicans."

"Rhoda!" cried Nan, "you can't see that through those glasses."

"No; I cannot distinguish the horsemen. But I can see the little
flashes moving across the saddle of the Gap and down into the
valley on this side. And I know they are Mexicans because those
flashes are the sun's rays shining on the silver trimming on their
sombreros. Yes, they are Mexicans."

"Glory be!" exclaimed Bess. "Can you be sure of all that?"

"More. Poor Mexicans--the peons who come up here to find work--do
not wear such sombreros. Nor do many Mexicans waste their money in
such fashions nowadays. But there is a class that dress just that
fancily."