Part 33 (2/2)
chided Montez.
That word _chiquita_, meaning ”pet,” caused the girl to recoil inwardly. Could it be that this hard, cruel man had the right to address her in endearing terms?
”I am not well to-day, my father,” she answered, in a low voice.
”Then take my arm, _chiquita_, and walk with me,” urged Montez.
”My father,” she cried, shrinking back, ”if you will indulge me, I will walk alone. Perhaps, in that way, I shall gain more strength from the exercise.”
”As you will,” smiled Don Luis, coldly. ”For myself, I have much to think of. I have American guests coming soon. I expect that they will buy _El Sombrero_ for money enough to make you one of the richest heiresses in all Mexico, _chiquita_.”
”For me? And I do not know how to care for money!” answered the girl, unsteadily. Then she turned away, swiftly, unable to stand longer looking into Don Luis's eyes.
Through the day Tom and Harry had tramped about almost feverishly, stopping at intervals as though for rest. Now, in the late afternoon, they were on their way back to camp by a route that took them not far from Don Luis's grounds.
As they came within sight of the place, Tom espied Montez and Dr. Tisco walking slowly at one end of the garden, seemingly engaged in earnest conversation. At the farther end of the garden from them, Francesca walked by herself, seeming outwardly composed.
”It seems strange, doesn't it,” asked Harry, ”that such a fine girl can possibly be Don Luis's daughter?”
”She inherits her mother's purity and goodness, doubtless,” Tom replied.
”Ouch!” grunted Hazelton, stumbling over a stone with which his foot had collided. At Harry's exclamation Tom glanced up, then his eyes met a strange sight.
Lying in a cleft in the rocks, with his head behind a bush, and well concealed, lay the stranger whom the young engineers had nursed through an illness.
That stranger was intently gazing at the garden of Don Luis.
So absorbed was he that he had either not heard or did not heed the pa.s.sing of the two Americans.
For a brief instant Tom Reade halted, regarding the face of the absorbed stranger.
”I didn't have an idea about you, Mr. Stranger,” muttered Tom to himself, as he plodded forward once more. ”But now--now, I'll wager that I've guessed who and what you are. Mr. Stranger, I believe that this one glance at your face has told me your story and your purpose in being in these mountains of Bonista!”
CHAPTER XX
TWO REAL SIGNATURES
Though they were in Mexico the young engineers found it chilly that evening, after sundown.
”Nicolas, can you spare wood enough to start a little campfire?”
Tom asked, as he put on his blouse after supper.
”Yes,” replied the little Mexican. ”For what is the use of being strong if I could not tramp after more wood to-morrow?”
”We'll pay you well for all your trouble for us, _mi muchacho_”
(my boy) Tom promised.
”I am rewarded enough in being allowed to serve you, _caballeros_,”
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