he dawn comes."

"That reminds me," muttered Tom. "We want to be farther from
Don Luis before dawn arrives. Gato, oblige us by rising and joining
in the hike."

Though Gato snarled, he allowed himself to be hoisted to his feet.
Then, with alert Harry behind him the villain allowed himself
to be ordered along the trail.

When dawn came Nicolas informed the young engineers that they
were now within about four miles of the nearest telegraph station.
The food that they had brought along was opened; even Gato had
his share. Then Nicolas vanished once more, and the march was
resumed.

The sun was well up, and beating down hot and fiery when Nicolas,
standing on a jutting ledge of rock, pointed down into the valley
at a little clump of wooden buildings, roofed with corrugated iron.

"That third house is the telegraph station," said the _peon_.
"You will know it by the wires running in."

"Shan't we all go down?" asked Harry.

"I'm afraid it wouldn't be wise," Tom answered. "We can't turn
our prisoner loose. On the other hand, if we took him with us,
roped as he is, it might stir up a lot of questioning and make
some trouble. But Nicolas will know better. What do you say,
my boy?"

"I say that Senor Reade is right."

Tom therefore started down into the valley alone. A few half-clad
natives lounged in the street. They stared curiously at this
stalwart-looking, bronzed young Gringo who walked toward them
with alert step.

Two or three of the children, after the custom of their kind,
called out for money. Tom, smiling pleasantly, drew forth a few
loose American coins that he had with him and scattered them in
the road. Then he hastened on to the telegraph station, a
squalid-looking little one-room shanty. But the place looked good to
Tom, for its wires reached out over the civilized world, and more
especially ran to the dear old United States that he was so anxious
to reach with a few words.

Tom passed inside, to find a bare-footed, white-clad Mexican soldier
at a telegraph desk. The soldier wore the chevrons of a sergeant.

"Sergeant, may I send a telegram from here?" Tom inquired in Spanish.

"Certainly, senor," replied the sergeant, pushing forward a blank.
As this telegraph station was a military station, it was under
the exclusive control of the soldiery.

Tom picked up the blank and the proffered pencil. He dated the
paper, then wrote the name and address of the manager of his and
Harry's