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"That's an order on the Dugout City Bank to hand you one thousand dollars." Ferrers stared at the piece of paper incredulously. "What'll the feller pay me in?" he demanded. "Lead at twelve cents a pound? And say, will he hand me the lead out of an automatic gun?" "If the paying teller serves you that way," rejoined Reade, "you'll have a right to feel peevish about it. But he won't.
What I meant to say was not 'war lord, but but " "Over lord?" suggested Reade, politely. "Ah, yes! Perhaps that better expresses what I mean. In Mexico we have laws, senor, to be sure. But they are not for caballeros like myself not for men who can boast of the blood of Spanish hidalgos. I am master over these people for many miles around. Absolute master!
Bascomb paused to light one, Mr. Prenter thrust an arm through Tom's and led that youth down the road. "Now, Mr. Reade," murmured the treasurer, earnestly, "Mr. Bascomb, of course, is our president, and I don't want you to treat him with the slightest disrespect.
Is he playing on my nerves at this moment?" But Montez, with an appearance of being wholly interested in Tom Reade, went outside with him. Harry placed campstools for the callers, while the young engineers threw themselves upon the ground. Don Luis Montez, as usual, was to do the talking, while Dr.
Don Luis gave another shrug of his shoulders. "You would be held incommunicado, Senor Reade, until the judges were ready to try you." "And that might be years off," Tom muttered. Don Luis beamed delightedly, while a thin smile curled on Dr. Tisco's lips. "You are beginning, senor, to get some grasp of Mexican law," laughed Montez.
In our own case we very likely would have lost our lives to bandits if we had not tied Gato and brought him with us." "Had you tied him and left him behind it might have been different," explained the lieutenant. "But what you did, Senor Reade, was to make an actual arrest, and this you, as an American, had no right to do.
"I don't see any papers there now," Tom interposed. "They're gone," replied Mr. Hinman. "Probably the thief thought the papers valuable, also, but they weren't. " "You were robbed -when?" asked Dick. "When I was sleeping." "At some farm house?" Reade inquired. "No; I slept on a pile of old rags that I had taken in trade." "In the wagon? " from Prescott. "Yes."
"And so, I hope, are every one of you fellows." "I'd like to," agreed Tom Reade. "Then don't say you'd like to; say you're going to," admonished Dick. "The fellow who doesn't quite know never gets much of any place. Just say to yourself that you're going to be one of the stars on the school team.
When an American Charles Reade wishes in the future to weave into the woof of his novel the account of some great public calamity he will portray the misfortune which overwhelmed the towns and villages lying in the valley of the Conemaugh River.
"Nothing as stale as that," scoffed Tom Reade. "That wouldn't call for any brains, you see. Come along and we'll look over the lay of the land. Cheer up, Timmy! You'll have plenty of chance to slip into the house, get upstairs, undressed and be in bed before your father has time to get over the surprise that's coming to him."
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