one else will shelter us in this country. We can't get a
wagon to take our trunks away in. Surely, you don't intend to
shoulder these trunks to the railway station--seventy miles away?"

"No," Reade admitted. "We'll have to abandon our trunks. All
I wanted to be sure about was to get them out of Don Luis's house.
And now I am just as anxious to get them out of sight of his
porch. As long as the trunks stand here they'll tell Don Luis
of our discomfort. I don't want that thieving rascal to have
the satisfaction even of laughing at our trunks."

"All right, if that's the way you feel about it," Hazelton grunted.
"I'm ready to shoulder mine."

"Come along, then," Tom nodded. "Up the slope we go."

Their climb was a hard one. But at last they halted, dropping
their heavy baggage on a flat surface of rock that was not visible
from the big white house. Then up a little higher the now unencumbered
engineers trod. When they halted they could see far and wide
over this strange country.

"Now, what?" asked Hazelton.

"Luncheon, if I had my choice," muttered Tom. "But that's out
of the question, I fear."

"Unless we can catch a rabbit, or something, with our hands."

"Harry, I wonder if we can find the trail all the way back to
the railroad. These mountain paths are crooked affairs at best."

"We know the general direction, and our pocket compasses will serve
us," Hazelton nodded.

"Don Luis seems to think that he can stop us from getting through
to the railroad."

"I'm not so sure that he can't, either, Tom. Hang these little
Mexicans. With our hands either one of us could thrash an armful
of these people, but a Mexican with a gun is almost the size of
an American with a gun. Tom, if we only had a brace of revolvers
I believe we could go through to civilization without mishap."

"We haven't any pistols, so there's no use in talking about them,"
Reade retorted.

"But we would have had revolvers, at least in our baggage, if
you hadn't always been so dead set against carrying them," Harry
complained.

"I'm just as much set against firearms as ever," Tom answered,
dryly. "Revolvers are made for killing people. Now, why any sane
man should desire to kill any one goes beyond me."

"Humph! We'll be lucky if we can get out of these mountains without
killing any one," grunted Hazelton.

"Cheer up!" laughed Tom. "The whole world hasn't turned black just
because we've skipped our luncheon."

"I wou