The sun was hanging low in the west, its last rays shimmering upon the surface of the broad Hudson. The air was chilly and rapidly growing colder.
"It's fine here in the summer," said Arthur, as they strolled about; "but I prefer the city just now. Later, when there is ice boating, we have some great sport up here. Yes, that is real sport! Making a mile a minute on an ice boat is enough to satisfy any one. I'd like to have you up here for some of that, Merriwell."
"I know I would enjoy it," smiled Frank. "I've done a little ice boating; but not on the scale that it's done up here."
As they walked about, Mendoza gradually fell behind.
"I'm afraid your friend is sulking," said Merry.
"Let him sulk!" exclaimed Arthur, in a low tone. "He had deuced bad taste in making the talk he did, and I'm rather sore on him. Don't pay any attention to him."
Thus it happened that Carlos was left behind and dropped out of sight.
He was passing a thick hedge, when suddenly from the opposite side rose the head and shoulders of a boy nearly his own age, and somewhat resembling him in general appearance. This boy whistled a soft signal and called the name of Carlos, who turned in surprise and saw him.
For a moment Mendoza stood staring in a surprised and bewildered way. Then his eyes gleamed, and he exclaimed:
"As I live, it is Felipe Jalisco!"