e
to his mine was decidedly irregular. Many boulders jutted out,
making a frequent change in the course of the road necessary.
It was Tom's intention to gain the nearest ledge of rock of this
sort to the hill trail, and there hide to watch the caravan.

They had nearly reached this point when out of the darkness a figure
stole softly to meet them.

"Nicolas!" muttered Tom, in a low voice, all but rubbing his eyes.
"How on earth did you get here?"

"Am I not commanded to keep with you everywhere, and serve you
in all things?" demanded the servant. "Do not go around that
next point in the road, _caballeros_. If you do, you will run
straight into Pedro Gato, who has other men with him."

CHAPTER VII

DON LUIS'S ENGINEERING PROBLEM

"Gato?" whispered Harry. "What is he doing around here?"

"There is no reason why we should care what he is doing," Tom
returned. "He isn't in the employ of the mine. Come along, Harry."

But Nicolas seized the young chief engineer by the arm.

"Beat me, if you will, Senor Americano," pleaded Nicolas. "But
don't encounter Gato. It would be as much as your life is worth."

"Why? Is Gato on the warpath for us?" Tom questioned.

"I fear so," Nicolas answered. "Don't let him see you."

"But I must see him, if the fellow is out for us," muttered Tom.
"Show me where he is."

"He and three or four men are camped just around there," said
the Mexican servant, pointing.

"Come along, Harry," Tom whispered. "Go cat-foot."

Ere the young engineers came in sight around the turn a slight
glow of light against the stones caught their glance. Tom held
a hand behind him as a signal to Hazelton to slow up. Then Reade
peered around a jutting ledge of rock.

On the ground, around a low camp-fire, were seated four Mexicans.
Two of the number had rifles, that lay on the ground near them.
Behind them, an ugly scowl on his face, sat Gato, his back resting
against a rock.

"But you will not find your enemies out here to-night, Senor Gato,"
softly remarked one of the quartette around the fire.

"No," admitted Gato, in a growling voice.

"Then why are we waiting here?"

"Because it pleases me," snapped the big fellow. "What ails you?
Am I not paying you?"

"But two of us--and I am one of them--do not like to be seen,"
rejoined the speaker at the fire. "The troops hunt us. There
is a price on our heads."

"Bandits!" muttered Tom Reade, under his breath, as he drew back.