Chapter XIII. Followed - Page 2

grass. This Delazes was a Mexican labor contractor, and it was through him that Tom had hired the other men and the ox carts.

"Ah, senors!" exclaimed Delazes as he approached, "I fear you are going in the wrong direction to reach the gold mines. If I had known at the start--"

"We're not looking for gold mines!" interrupted Tom quickly. He did not like the greedy look in the eyes of Delazes, a look that flared out at the mention of gold--a look that was crafty and full of cunning.

"Not looking for gold mines!" the contractor repeated incredulously. "Surely I heard some one say something about gold," and he looked at Eradicate.

"Oh, you mustn't mind what Rad says," cried Tom laughing, and he directed a look of caution at the colored man. "Rad is always talking about gold; aren't you, Rad?"

"I 'spects I is, Massa Tom. I shore would laik t' find a gold mine, dat's what I would."

"I guess that's the case with all of us," put in Ned.

"Rad, get the things packed up," directed Tom quickly. "We've had enough to eat and I want to make a good distance before we camp for the night." He wanted to get the colored man busy so the Mexican would have no chance to further question him.

"Surely the senors are not going to start off again at once-- immediately!" protested Delazes. "We have not yet taken the siesta-- the noon-day sleep, and--"

"We're going to cut out the siestas on this trip," interposed Tom. "We don't want to stay here too long. We want to find some good ruins that we can study, and the sooner we find them the better."

"Ah, then it is but to study--to photograph ruined cities and get relics, that the senors came to Mexico?"

Once more that look of cunning came in the Mexican's eyes.

"That's about it," answered Tom shortly. He did not want to encourage too much familiarity on the part of the contractor. "So, no siestas if you please, Senor Delazes. We can all siesta to- night."

"Ah, you Americanos!" exclaimed the Mexican with a shrug of his shoulders. He stroked his shiny black moustache. "You are ever so on the alert! Always moving. Well, be it so, we will travel on--to the ruined city--if we can find one," and he gave Tom a look that the latter could not quite understand.

It was hot--very hot--but Tom noticed that about a mile farther on, the trail led into a thick jungle of trees, where it would be shady, and make the going more comfortable.

"We'll be all right when we get there," he said to the others.

It was not with very good grace that the Mexicans got their ox teams ready. They had not objected very much when, on the day before Tom had insisted on starting off right