own in Mexico."

"The Mendozas form an important family."

"I hope he comes out, for I'd like lo have you meet him."

Less than ten minutes later Carlos Mendoza himself knocked at the door
of that room.

"I came right up, Arthur, my dear friend," he laughed, showing his
handsome teeth as he entered.

"That was right," said Hatch. "Let me introduce you to Mr. Merriwell,
Carlos. Mr. Merriwell, the friend I mentioned, Mr. Mendoza."

The young Mexican straightened up, and looked at Merry with an
expression of the keenest interest.

"Mr. Merriwell," he said, "I am happy to know you. I believe I have
heard of you before."

There was nothing of genuine American heartiness in the handshake he
gave Frank.

Mendoza had the atmosphere of his race, easy and languid. He dropped
gracefully on a chair and reached out for the cigarettes, the open case
of Arthur Hatch being near.

"Forgot my papers," he smiled, "so I can't roll one of my own. I won't
rob you, Arthur?"

"You'll not rob me if you take them all."

"You're always generous."

"Nothing generous about that, old man."

"Oh, I know cigarettes are inexpensive, especially to the son of an
American money king; but----"

"I shall not want those things any more," said Art, as if determined to
let his new visitor know without delay of his resolutions. "I have quit
smoking, Carlos."

The Mexican lad lifted his eyebrows in surprise.

"Quit?" he questioned. "Are you joking?"

"No; I'm in earnest. I've knocked off for good."

"How foolish!" laughed Carlos. "Why, how can you bear to deprive
yourself of such a comfort and luxury? Oh, the enjoyment of a good
cigarette! Nothing can take its place. A fellow loses a great deal if
he doesn't smoke. Next thing you'll tell me that you have stopped
drinking."

"I have."

Mendoza almost dropped his cigarette.

"What?"

"I don't wonder that you stare, but it is true. I have sworn off."

"Pardon me for smiling!" exclaimed the young Mexican, lifting his
slender hand to his mouth. "I fear it is not good breeding, but I can't
help it."

Young Hatch flushed.

"That's all right, Carlos!" he exclaimed. "I have a right to knock off
any of my bad habits if I wish to, I suppose."

"Oh, why do you call them bad habits? I see no sense in that, Arthur.
Every one smokes and drinks, you know. Down in my country----"

"Not every one," interrupted Arthur. "Merriwell does not."

Mendoza shrugged his shoulders like a Frenchman.