The fourth time that Gato was placed on his feet he stood, though he was shaking with fury.

"That's a little better," Tom nodded. "Now, Nicolas, I imagine you know more than I do about where your countrymen carry their extra arms. Search this fellow for weapons, and don't overlook anything."

No pistol was revealed by the search, but a long, keen-edged knife was brought to light.

"No gentleman has any occasion to carry a thing like that," mocked Reade. Thrusting the blade into a cleft of rock close by, Tom snapped the blade, rendering the weapon useless.

"Now, we're ready to go on," announced Tom. "Harry, will you keep behind our guest of the evening and spur him on if he shows signs of lagging?"

"Take this gun, Senor Reade," Nicolas hinted, trying to pa.s.s the weapon to the young chief engineer.

"I don't want it," returned Tom, shaking his head and making a gesture of repulsion. "I don't like guns. They always make me nervous. I'm afraid of accidents, you see."

"You take the gun, then, Senor Hazelton," begged Nicolas, turning to the other engineer.

"Don't you believe it," retorted Harry, gruffly. "I'd lose caste forever with Tom if I carried firearms. Tom says that n.o.body but a coward will carry firearms. You keep the gun yourself."

"_Muy bien, senor_," (very good, sir) agreed Nicolas, meekly.

"It is better that I should carry the weapon then, for I am truly worthless. I am but a _peon_."

"Oh, confound you!" choked Harry. "I didn't mean that. You're one of the best fellows on earth, Nicolas, for you're a man that can be trusted. Better unstrap that belt of cartridges from Gato, too."

The big Mexican ground his teeth and cursed in helpless rage while the little servant stripped him of the belt and adjusted it about his own waist.

"Now, let's get along," Reade urged. "We've been losing a lot of valuable time. Besides, we don't know when we'll run into some of this mountain pirate's choice friends."

Tom strode on ahead. Nicolas ran to his side, walking with him.

Then came Gato, urged on by Harry Hazelton.

"See here, you Nicolas," remarked Tom, protestingly, "why on earth didn't you stay put? We left you behind to-night so that you wouldn't run into trouble with Don Luis."

"Don Luis himself told me to wait on your excellencies night and day, as long as you remained in Bonista," Nicolas affirmed, solemnly.

"Don Luis hasn't yet changed those orders, and so I must remain with you. But I had flattered myself that just now I was of enough service to you so that you wouldn't be displeased."

"Displeased? Not a bit of it," muttered Tom. "But we didn't want you to get yourself into trouble on our account. Now, you've gone and written your name in Gato's bad books for certain."

"I have, senor," the _peon_ admitted. "Gato will take delight in cutting my throat for me one of these days."

"Great Scott!" Reade gasped, shivering. "That's cheerful."

"So that, perhaps, senor," suggested the _peon_, slyly, "you will be willing to take me with you to your own country. Perhaps there, also, you will be able to give me work as your servant."

"Rest a.s.sured of one thing, Nicolas. If we can get you safely over on to the American side of the border we'll look after you properly."

"I am very grateful, senor," protested Nicolas, humbly.

"But we're a long way from the American border as yet," Tom went on.

"You will get there safely, senor," predicted the _peon_. "You are a great man, and you know how to do things."

"Well, for simple faith you're the limit, Nicolas, my boy. For one thing, though, it strikes me that our getting over the border, which is some hundreds of miles away, might be hindered if we have the tough luck to run into any of Gato's armed pals along this route."

"You do well to remind me, senor!" cried Nicolas, in a low tone, but one, nevertheless, which was full of self-reproach. "So much have I enjoyed my talk with you that I have been forgetting to look after your safety. Pardon me, senor. I will vanish, but I shall watch over you with the wide-open eyes of the panther."

In another instant Nicolas had vanished from the trail. Tom, however, did not worry. He knew that Nicolas was not far away, and that the little _peon_ was doubtless as valuable a scout as their expedition could have.

"I wish I had asked him to unload that gun, though," Reade muttered to himself. "He's likely as not to hurt some one else beside the enemy with a stray bullet or two."

Three miles further on Tom, Harry and their prisoner halted, for on the rough road they were now becoming winded.

"I am near, senores," whispered a familiar voice, though Nicolas did not show himself over the rocks that concealed him.

"Yes," sneered Gato, harshly, "you are indeed near--near death, you silly little fool. Always before you have been safe because you were not a fighting man. But now you have taken to deeds of arms, and you shall take your chances whenever you stir in these mountains. For that matter you will surely be cut down before the dawn comes."

"That reminds me," muttered Tom. "We want to be farther from Don Luis before dawn arrives. Gato, oblige us by rising and joining in the hike."

Though Gato snarled, he allowed himself to be hoisted to his feet.

Then, with alert Harry behind him the villain allowed himself to be ordered along the trail.

When dawn came Nicolas informed the young engineers that they were now within about four miles of the nearest telegraph station.

The food that they had brought along was opened; even Gato had his share. Then Nicolas vanished once more, and the march was resumed.

The sun was well up, and beating down hot and fiery when Nicolas, standing on a jutting ledge of rock, pointed down into the valley at a little clump of wooden buildings, roofed with corrugated iron.

"That third house is the telegraph station," said the _peon_.

"You will know it by the wires running in."

"Shan't we all go down?" asked Harry.

"I'm afraid it wouldn't be wise," Tom answered. "We can't turn our prisoner loose. On the other hand, if we took him with us, roped as he is, it might stir up a lot of questioning and make some trouble. But Nicolas will know better. What do you say, my boy?"

"I say that Senor Reade is right."

Tom therefore started down into the valley alone. A few half-clad natives lounged in the street. They stared curiously at this stalwart-looking, bronzed young Gringo who walked toward them with alert step.

Two or three of the children, after the custom of their kind, called out for money. Tom, smiling pleasantly, drew forth a few loose American coins that he had with him and scattered them in the road. Then he hastened on to the telegraph station, a squalid-looking little one-room shanty. But the place looked good to Tom, for its wires reached out over the civilized world, and more especially ran to the dear old United States that he was so anxious to reach with a few words.

Tom pa.s.sed inside, to find a bare-footed, white-clad Mexican soldier at a telegraph desk. The soldier wore the chevrons of a sergeant.

"Sergeant, may I send a telegram from here?" Tom inquired in Spanish.

"Certainly, senor," replied the sergeant, pushing forward a blank.

As this telegraph station was a military station, it was under the exclusive control of the soldiery.

Tom picked up the blank and the proffered pencil. He dated the paper, then wrote the name and address of the manager of his and Harry's engineering office in the United States. Below this Reade wrote:

"Hazelton and I are now endeavoring to reach railway and return immediately. If not heard from soon, look us up promptly through Washington."

"Our man will know, from this, if he doesn't hear from us soon,"