us. And what, in the end,
is to be the fate of poor little Nicolas? Don Luis Montez is
not the sort of man to forgive him his fidelity to us."

"And where's Nicolas, all this time?" suddenly demanded Harry,
glancing at his watch. "Why, the fellow hasn't been here for
three hours! Where can he be?"

"_Quien sabe_?" responded Reade, using the common Spanish question,
given with a shrug, which means, "Who knows! Who can guess?"

"Can Nicolas have fallen into any harm?" asked Hazelton, a new
note of alarm in his voice. "The poor, faithful little fellow!
It gives me a shiver to think of his suffering an injury just
because he serves us so truly."

"I shall be interested in seeing him get back," Tom nodded thoughtfully.

"And I'm beginning to have a creepy feeling that he won't come
back!" cried Harry. "He may at this moment be past human aid,
Tom, and that may be but the prelude to our own craftily-planned
destruction."

Tom Reade sat up, leaning on one elbow, as he regarded his chum with
an odd smile.

"Harry," Tom uttered, dryly, "we certainly have no excuse for being
blue when we have such rosy thoughts to cheer us up!"

"Hang Mexico!" grunted Hazelton.

CHAPTER XVII

THE STRANGER IN THE TENT

By and by Tom Reade began to grow decidedly restless. He would
sit up, look and listen, and then lie down again. Then he would
fidget about nervously, all of which was most unusual with him,
for Reade's was one of those strong natures that will endure work
day and night as long as is necessary, and then go in for complete
rest when there is nothing else to do.

Harry did not observe this, for he had gone back into the tent.
Two sheets of a Mexican newspaper had come wrapped around one
of Nicolas's last food purchases. Hazelton was reading the paper
slowly by way of improving his knowledge of Spanish.

At last Tom called, in a low voice:

"Don't worry about me, chum, if you miss me. I'm going to take a
little stroll."

"All right, Tom."

Reade did not hurry away. He had to remember that in all probability
he was being watched. So he strolled about as though he had no
particular purpose in mind. Yet, after some minutes, he gained
a point from which he could gaze down the hill-slope toward the
little village of huts in which the mine laborers lived.

There were a few small children playing about the one street that
ran through the village. A few of the women were out of doors,
also, but n