The population of the town was very small, and exceedingly sleepy. Terry remarked that they slept all day in order to recruit strength enough to play on guitars at night. The population was composed of Spaniards, Mexicans, and a few Americans, whose interest seemed to be chiefly centered in the inland mines, and a number of halfbreeds. Droves of dogs, whose seemingly endless variety astonished the boys, roamed the streets.
“Gosh,” exclaimed Jim, as they came around a pack of them. “I used to like pups, but I don’t know as I do after seeing these. Guess I’ll look under my bed when we get back to the hotel and see if there are any there!”
Soft lights gleamed from most of the houses when evening came on, and the sound of guitars was to be heard on every street. There were no lights along the streets, but the night was warm and bright, and the Americans had no difficulty in walking around the town. Quite early they returned to their hotel and after drinking some cold orange drink, went to bed.
Bright and early in the morning they were up, as they had been told that the mine wagon was to leave at six, and after a hearty breakfast went out and loaded their bags on the vehicle. The driver appeared shortly afterward, rolling a cigaret with amazing skill between two fingers. Terry eyed him in admiration.
“By golly!” he muttered. “I don’t smoke and don’t know as I shall, but if I did I’d give a lot to be able to roll ’em like that! I couldn’t roll one that way with both hands.”
Later on, when in the course of their journey the Spaniard yawned, Terry pretended to be enthusiastic. Without bothering to take the cigaret out of his mouth the driver yawned heartily, and the cigaret, clinging to his upper lip, simply hung suspended until he closed his lips again. Then he resumed smoking, the operation being none the worse for the act, and Terry again shook his head in envy.
“Wonderful people!” he whispered to Don. “Too lazy to do anything at all! Wonder what happens to a cup of coffee when he yawns!”
“Probably he keeps right on pouring it down and doesn’t waste any time,” chuckled Jim. “Great labor savers, these people!”
“I guess their hardest work is to keep from doing any work,” smiled Professor Scott.
The wagon was a large open affair, with two long boards like benches on the side, and the boys and the teacher sat on the seats with their baggage at their feet. The driver sat slumped forward on the front seat, smoking, yawning and dozing by turns, muttering in broken exclamations sometimes to the horses and sometimes to himself. Although they tried to talk to him they received only weary shrugs of his narrow shoulders, and they soon gave it up and talked among themselves.