CHAPTER II

THE WOLF WHO SHOWED HIS TEETH

A rare host at table was Don Luis Montez. He possessed the manner, even if not the soul, of a great n.o.bleman.

His daughter, Francesca, reputed to be a beauty, did not appear at table. So far the young engineers had not met her. They would be presented, however, within a day or two, after the Mexican custom, for Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton were to be guests in the white palace during their residence in this part of Mexico.

Dr. Tisco, too, tried to be most entertaining, and succeeded.

"You are the surgeon at the mine?" Harry ventured.

"A _medico_?" suggested Dr. Tisco, with a bow of humility. "Ah, no, senor, I have not that honor. I am a doctor of philosophy, not of medicine."

"Then you may be a scientific expert," Harry hazarded. "You are the expert here at the mine?"

"Not so," broke in Don Luis, gently. "It is true that Carlos has some knowledge of chemistry, but he is not a mining expert. He is my secretary, my man of affairs."

"Oh, really the manager of the mine, then?" pursued Harry. "Pardon me if I ask too many questions. I do not mean to be impertinent.

But, as we are going to work here I wish to know who's who is Senor Montez' representative."

"Carlos," broke in Don Luis, again, "is rather more than the mine manager. He serves me in a variety of interests, and the mine is only one of them."

"If you wish to know whether you are to be under my instructions,"

Dr. Tisco continued, "I can a.s.sure you that you are not. I seldom give orders except as the direct--I might say the directed--mouthpiece of Don Luis."

"I have a separate manager at the mine," added Don Luis. "You shall meet him to-morrow. His name is Pedro Gato. You will find him a self-opinionated fellow, and one used to having his own way. He has to be somewhat turbulent, or he would never hold some of my _peons_ (laborers) in check. But under the surface you will find Pedro Gato an excellent fellow if you do not rub him too hard the wrong way."

"Gato will not attempt to give us any orders, of course?" Tom asked very quietly.

"Possibly not," dubiously replied Don Luis. "I really do not know. That point has not before come up to me for consideration."

"Then I hope you will make it clear to Senor Gato, Don Luis, that we are engineers, wholly in charge of our own work; that we have been engaged as experts and that we manage our own work in the way that appears to us best to serve our employer's interests."

"That can all be arranged very amicably, I am certain," replied Don Luis, as though to dismiss the matter for the present.

Dr. Tisco, covertly, was intently watching the eyes and faces of the young engineers. The secretary was most anxious to take an accurate measure of these two young Americans, who were now highly important to his plans.

After the evening meal, Don Luis summoned a number of his home retainers, who played mandolins and guitars. Some of them sang with considerable sweetness and power. The full moon, soon to wane, shed l.u.s.trous light over the tropical scene of beauty.

It was a delightful evening. Tom and Harry, when they retired, found themselves ready to sleep instantly. Their bedrooms opened into a common parlor. Early in the morning they were astir.

"What shall we wear, Tom?" inquired Hazelton, going toward his trunks.

"Eh?"

"I wonder what people wear in Mexico," Harry continued. "I don't want to make any mistake in my clothing."

"The best clothing for engineers about to go down into a mine will be top-boots, khaki trousers and flannel shirts."

"But will that be suitable to go to breakfast in?" Harry asked.

"Will it be showing sufficient courtesy to our host? And suppose the daughter should be at table?"

"That's so," Reade nodded. "I am sorry that we didn't fish for points last evening."

A knock came at the door.

"Aqui!" (here) Tom answered.

The door opened slowly. A man servant of perhaps twenty-five years, attired in clean white clothes, but bare-footed, stood in the doorway, bowing very low.

"_Buenos dias_, _caballeros_!" (good morning, gentlemen) was his greeting.

Tom invited him to enter.

"_Caballeros_," announced the _peon_, "I am your servant, your slave, your dog! My name is Nicolas."

"How do you do, Nicolas," responded Tom, holding out his hand, which the Mexican appeared too dazed, or too respectful to take.

"We may find a servant useful. But we never kept slaves, and we wouldn't dream of calling any man a dog."

"I am your dog, _caballeros_," Nicolas a.s.serted. "I am yours to do with as you wish. Beat me, if I do not perform my work well."

"But I wouldn't beat a dog. Almost any dog is too fine a fellow to be served in that fashion," Tom explained.

"_Caballeros_, I am here to receive your pleasure and commands concerning breakfast."

"Is it ready?" demanded Harry hopefully.

"The kitchen is open, and the cooks there," Nicolas responded.

"When your excellency's orders have been given the cooks will prepare your meal with great dispatch."

"Has Don Luis come down yet?" Tom inquired.

"No; for his great excellency has not yet eaten," answered the _peon_.

"Oh! Then your master eats in his own room?" Tom asked.

"Don Luis eats always his breakfast in bed," Nicolas told them.

"Then I guess we were too fresh, Tom, in getting up," laughed Harry.

As this was spoken in English, Nicolas, not understanding, paid no heed. Tom and Harry, on the other hand, had a conversational smattering of Spanish, for in Arizona they had had a large force of Mexican laborers working under them.

"Nicolas, my good boy," Tom went on, "we are quite new to the ways of Mexico. We shall have to ask you to explain some matters to us."

"I am a dog," said Nicolas, gravely, "but even a dog may speak according to his knowledge."

"Then of what does the breakfast here usually consist?"