"Down to the mine I have been and back. The air is beautiful
here in the early morning, and I enjoyed the walk. You, too,
will enjoy our walks when you become used to them."

Dr. Tisco came out, bowing most affably to the young Americans.

"You look as though you had been walking, too," suggested Tom,
noting Tisco's high-topped shoes.

"I went with Don Luis," replied the secretary. "Oh, by the way,
Senor Hazelton, I believe some of your property has come into
my possession. This is yours, is it not?"

Tisco held out a fine linen handkerchief, with an embroidered
initial "H" in one corner. Harry was fond of fine linen, and
effected these handkerchiefs.

"Yes; it's mine, thank you," nodded Harry, accepting the proffered
bit of linen and pocketing it.

"I found it in a field, just this side of _El Sombrero_," remarked
Tisco, artlessly, turning away.

Though the secretary did not watch Hazelton's face, Don Luis did,
and saw the slight start of surprise and the flush that came to
the young engineer's face.

"You, too, have been walking then, Senor Hazelton?" inquired Don
Luis, pleasantly, though with an insistence that was not to be
denied.

Harry didn't know how to lie. He might have dodged the question,
but he was quick enough to see that evasion would make the matter
worse.

"Tom and I took a stroll last night," he admitted, indifferently.
"How far did we go, Tom?"

"Who can say?" replied Reade, lightly. "It was so dark, and the
way so unfamiliar that we were glad when we got home, I know."

"They have been prowling," muttered Don Luis, sharply, under his
breath. "I must have them watched."

"Are we going to the mine this morning, Don Luis?" Tom asked,
carelessly.

"Do you care to go, Senor Tomaso?"

"Why, that's just as you say, sir," Reade rejoined. "Of course,
we would like to get actively engaged at our work. In fact, it
seems to me that Harry and I should rise earlier and be at the
mine at least from eight in the morning until six at night."

"You would soon tire yourselves out. The mine is a dirty hole."

"By the way, sir," Reade went on, carelessly, "how far do you
have to send ore to have it smelted."

"About sixty miles."

"By mule-train, I suppose."

"Yes, Senor Tomaso."

"It must be costly shipping."

"So it is," sighed Don Luis, "and yet the ore is rich enough to
bear easily the cost of shipping."

"In what direction is the smelter?"

Don Luis pointed.

"Straight