"Harry, old fellow, Don Luis is the essence of courtesy. He has
been very polite to us, too. Yet something has aroused a suspicion
in me that Don Luis Montez wishes to use us in some way that we
wouldn't care to be used. So I'm saying little, but my eyes are
going to be open all the time from now on."

"Oh, Don Luis must be on the square," Hazelton retorted. "What could
he want of us that is crooked?"

"I don't know, yet," Tom replied, as he led the way rapidly down
the road. "But I'm going to watch, and, if there's anything wrong,
I'm going to get a line on it."

"_El Sombrero_ is Don Luis's own mine. Surely he hasn't hired
us to fool him about his own property."

"I don't know what it is that's wrong," Tom admitted. "Nor am
I sure that anything is wrong. But I'm going to do my own watching
and gather some of my own information. See, there are the lights
on that trail beyond, and there are several lights. It looks
like a caravan moving down the trail."

"A caravan?" Harry repeated. "Of what?"

"I don't know, Harry. That's what I'm here to-night to find out."

Brisk, soft walking brought them nearer and nearer to the twinkling
lights along the trail that ran into their own road at a point
lower down.