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The Young Engineers in Mexico, a novel by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 17. The Stranger In The Tent |
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_ 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 none of the men were in sight, for these were toiling away at the mine. Though _El Sombrero_ had so far shown no ore that amounted to anything, Don Luis, while waiting to sell his mine for a fortune, kept his _peons_ working hard in the hope that they might strike some real ore. After Tom had been gazing for three or four minutes his eves suddenly lighted, for he saw Nicolas come out of one of the huts. "I wonder what has kept the little fellow so long," Tom murmured. But he turned away with an appearance of listlessness, for, if he were observed, he did not care to have a watcher note his interest in the servant's coming. So Nicolas passed on toward the tents without having observed Reade. "I won't get back too soon," Tom decided. "If we are watched at all it wouldn't do to have me appear too much interested in the _peon's_ doings." Now that his mind was somewhat easier, Tom strolled on once more. His roundabout path took him along among the rocks that littered the ground over the principal tunnels of _El Sombrero_. Hundreds of feet beneath him now toiled some of the _peons_ who lived in the village of huts yonder. Presently Reade increased his speed considerably, deciding that now it would be safe to return directly to camp. Suddenly he stopped short, head up, his gaze directed at the tops of three or four rocks. Some human being had just dodged out of sight at that point. Tom felt a swift though brief chill. Something had made him suspect that the prowler might be Gato, or one of the latter's companions. Instead of running away Tom made for the place of hiding in short leaps. "Hold on there a minute, my friend," Tom called in Spanish. "I think it may be worth my while to look you over." Just as Reade was ready to bound over the rocks a figure rose as though to meet him. A light leap landed Reade on top of the stranger, who was borne to earth. "Mercy senor!" begged the other. "Do not be rough with me. I am not strong enough to stand it." The man spoke Spanish and was well past middle age, of a very spare figure, and his face was very thin, although there was a deep flush on his cheeks. "Oh, I beg your pardon," said Tom in Spanish. He touched the stranger's cheeks, which were hot with fever. Then Tom slid off his poor captive and squatted beside him. Reaching for the man's left wrist and resting two fingers on his pulse, Tom added, gently: "Tell me all about it, senor." "There is not much to tell," panted the stranger, weakly, for Tom's landing on him had jarred him severely. "I am sick, as you can see." "Oh, that isn't much," said Tom, blithely. "With decent care you will soon he well. It is plain that you are a gentleman--no _peon_. Yonder, some distance, is a house where I think you are very likely to be well taken care of. Don Luis Montez--" Despite the hectic flush in the cheeks, the stranger's face paled visibly. Tom, always observant, noted this. "Oh, I see," Reade went on, calmly. "You do not like Don Luis Montez, or you do not care about going to his house." The stranger gazed up wistfully at the young engineer's kindly face. "Senor," he asked, "you would not betray me?" "You mean to Don Luis?" A weak nod was the answer. "Rest easy on that score, my friend," Tom begged, dryly. "Don Luis and I are not on the best of terms. I do not like him very well myself." "Will you help to hide me here, and then go away and be silent?" "Go away and leave you here?" suggested Reade. "Yes, senor. It will be a great favor." "It would be murder," Tom retorted. "Man, you're ill and you need care--nursing. I don't know much about doctoring, but if you have any reason why you don't want Don Luis to know you're here, then I'll do the best I can for you here. I have a chum who'll help me. You have been traveling for some time?" Tom continued, his glance taking in the stranger's well-worn shoes and trousers. "That is true, yes," nodded the stranger. "You've been over a rough road, also," Tom continued, "and now you're ill. Your pulse is a hundred and twenty, and you're breathing thirty-two times to the minute. You must have a good bed, be covered comfortably and have plenty of water to drink while we're getting some medicines for you." "You are indeed kind, but I fear," protested the stranger, "that you will attract attention my way, and then I shall be captured." Tom studied the face of the sick man keenly. "I wish you would tell me something about yourself," the young engineer hinted. "It might help me to decide what it is best to do for you." "Senor," begged the stranger, with a start of dread "it would be a great kindness to me if you would go away and leave me here. Do not come back--and forget that you have seen me." "It can't be done," replied Tom, with gentle positiveness. "It wouldn't be in American nature to go away and leave a fellow creature to die of helplessness when a little care and nursing ought to put that man on his feet again. But I won't argue with you, for I see the excitement is bringing a deeper flush into your face. Senor, as you are a gentleman trust another gentleman to serve you loyally and not betray you. I am going to leave you for a little while. Will you give me your word to remain here until I return?" "Yes," nodded the other, weakly. "I'll wrap this around you," Reade continued, taking off his own blouse and wrapping it around the thin body of the older man. "This will help you a little if you are taken with chills. I shall be back as soon as I can possibly come without attracting attention. Do not be startled if you hear other footsteps than my own. I shall bring with me a friend. I would trust in his hands anything or all that I have in the world. Will you trust me to serve you, senor?" "I shall trust you," promised the other, simply. "In truth, my young friend, I have many reasons why I could wish to recover of this illness and be well again." Tom slipped away, then rose to his full height, and resumed his late appearance of lounging along without an object. As he neared the camp he espied Nicolas, whom he had forgotten. "Our little fellow came back, you see," called Harry, as Tom neared the tents. "What have you been doing?" "Loafing," yawned Reade, as he strolled up. When he reached the cook tent, however, he stepped inside and the Mexican servant followed him. "Senor," Nicolas reported, in a whisper, "I think I succeeded in my errand." "But you do not yet know?" queried Tom. "How can I know so soon, senor?" questioned Nicolas. "True," nodded Tom. Then he stepped outside the tent, remarking: "Our food supply is so low, Nicolas, that I fear you will have to take the basket and go after more." "It shall be done, senor," promised the servant, and going into the tent appeared a moment later with a basket. Tom handed him some money. "I am listening to your orders, senor." "Oh, you know as well what food to get as I do," Tom rejoined. "But," he added, under his voice, "you _must_ get me some--" Here Tom added the Spanish names of three or four drugs that he wanted. "I think I shall be able to get the drugs, senor. Some of the _peons_ must keep them in their houses." "You must get them, as I said. Now, make good time. I will await your return." Then Tom drew Harry aside, describing the finding of the fever-stricken stranger. "Who on earth can he be?" wondered Harry, curiously. "And what can he be doing in this out of the way part of the world?" "That's his own secret," retorted Tom, dryly; and the man is bent on keeping it. There are only two things that we need to know--one that he is ill, and the other that he is very plainly a gentleman, who would be incapable of repaying our kindness with any treachery. What do you say, Harry? Shall we bring him here and look after him?" "That's for you to say, Tom." "It's half for you to say, Harry. Half the risk is also yours, if anything goes wrong." "Tom, I feel the same way that you do about it," Harry declared, his eyes shining brightly. "A fellow creature in distress is one whom we can't pass by. We can't leave him to die. Such a thing would haunt me as long as I live. When do you want to go after him?" "Just as soon as it's dark," Reade replied. "That will be within the hour, for here in the tropics night comes soon after the sun sets." When the time came Tom and Harry left their tent, strolling slowly. It was very dark and the young engineers listened intently as they went along. They found their stranger and lifted him from the ground. He was so slight and frail that he proved no burden whatever. Apparently without having been seen by any one Reade and Hazelton bore their man back to camp. "Into the cook tent," whispered Reade. "Don Luis, if he should visit us, is less likely to look there than anywhere else." Into the cook tent they bore the stranger, arranging a bed on the floor, and covering the sick man with such blankets as his condition appeared to call for. "I am back, _caballeros_," announced Nicolas, treading softly into the tent. "To the praise of Heaven, be it said, I secured the medicines you told me to get." Then Nicolas stopped short, gazing wonderingly at the fever-flushed face of the stranger. _ |
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