"You have come to serve us," said Gato, delightedly. "You are a good youth, and I shall reward you handsomely some day. You are ready to tell us how we can trap the two Gringos. How many weapons have they, and of what kind?"

"Truly, I do not know, Senor Gato," Nicolas answered.

"That taller Gringo taunted me with the claim that he was not armed at all," grinned Gato, ferociously. "But I am too old a man to be caught by any such lie as that. He was trying to lead us on, that we might walk into their Gringo trap. Was he not?"

"Truly I do not know," Nicolas repeated.

"Then what are you doing here, if you bring us no news?" snarled Gato, whereat Nicolas began to tremble.

"I--I bring a letter from his excellency, _el caballero_, Reade,"

faltered the servant.

"A letter?" cried Gato, hoa.r.s.ely. "Why did you not say so before."

"I have been waiting, Senor Gato, until you gave me time to speak,"

protested the messenger.

"Hand me the letter," ordered Gato, stretching forth his hand.

Nicolas handed over the page torn from Tom's notebook. Gato slowly puzzled his way through the note, his anger rising with every word.

"The insolent Gringo!" he cried. "He insults my courage! This from one who is a mere Gringo--the most cowardly race of people on the earth. Oh, I shall exact revenge for this insolence.

And you, Nicolas, had the impudence to come here with such an insult."

"I a.s.sure you, Senor Gato, I was but the unfortunate messenger."

Nicolas replied, meekly.

"Since you brought this insolence to me you shall take back my message. Tell the dogs of Gringos that I laugh at them. Tell the Gringo, Reade, that, in these hills, I shall do as I please.

That I shall let him pa.s.s safely, if I am so minded, or that I shall shoot at him whenever I choose. a.s.sure him that I regard his life as being my property. Begone, you rascal!"

Nor did Nicolas linger. From the outset he had been badly scared, though he had been truthful in a.s.suring Tom Reade that a bandit would hardly hurt a poor _peon_.

When Nicolas at last reached the young engineers he delivered the message that Pedro Gato had regarded the whole matter as insolence, and had been very angry.

"Gato added," continued Nicolas, "that he would shoot at you when and where he pleased. And he will do it. He is a ferocious fellow."

"Humph!" muttered Tom. "If your feet don't mind, my good Nicolas, I have a good mind to send Gato another and much shorter note.

Is it far to go!"

"N-not very far," said Nicolas, though he began to quake.

"Of course, I shall pay you well for this and all the other trouble you are taking on my account," Tom continued, gently.

"I am finely paid by being allowed to serve you at all, Senor Reade," Nicolas protested.

CHAPTER XIII

PINING FOR THE GOOD OLD U.S.

"You will have to be very careful that Gato does not get another chance to shoot at you, _mi caballero_," Nicolas went on. "He does not believe that you are unarmed, or he would speedily settle with you. But he will shoot at you frequently, from ambush, if you give him the chance."

"Then I hope he'll do it frequently," grimaced Reade. "The need of frequent shooting indicates bad marksmanship."

"Senor," begged Nicolas, "I would not joke about Gato. He means to kill you, or worse."

"Worse?" queried Tom, raising his eyebrows. "How could that be?"

The Mexican servant made a gesture of horror.

"It is worse when our Mexican bandits torture a man," he replied, his voice shaking. "They are fiends--those of our Mexicans who have bad hearts."

"Then you believe that Gato plans something diabolical, just because I walloped him in a fair fight--or in a fight where the odds were against me?"

"It matters not as to the merits of the fight," Nicolas went on.

"Gato will never be satisfied until he has hurt you worse than you hurt him."

"And perhaps Don Luis may be behind the rascal, urging him on and offering to protect him from the law? What do you think about that, Nicolas?"

"I cannot say," Nicolas responded, with a slight shrug. "I am Don Luis's servant."

"Pardon my forgetting that," begged Harry. "I should not have spoken as I did."

"For more than one reason," Tom muttered, "we shall do well to get out of this unfriendly stretch of country. Harry, we're pining for the good old U.S., aren't we?"

"Just a glimpse of the American side of the border--that's all we want," laughed Hazelton.

"And, if we're to be killed, we'll at least be killed while trying to reach the border," Reade proposed.

"Do you intend starting now, senor?" asked Nicolas, in a low voice.

"Not before dark," Tom murmured.

"Then why do you two not sleep for a while?" begged the servant.

"You will need some strength if you are to travel through these mountains all night. Sleep! You can trust me to keep awake and to warn you if danger gets close."

"Thank you, old fellow; I know we can trust you," Tom replied.

He stretched himself out on the ground, pulling his hat down over his eyes. Within two minutes he was sound asleep. Not more than a minute after that Harry, too, was dozing.

It was still daylight when Tom awoke. He sat up. Harry was sleeping soundly, and Nicolas was not in sight.

"Abandoned?" thought Reade. "No; that's hardly likely. Nicolas rings true. Hiding close to here, undoubtedly, that he may keep better watch. A call will bring him here."

Tom rose, to look about.

"Be cautious, senor," came the whispered advice from an unseen speaker. "If you expose yourself you may invite a bullet."