"Oh, no!" laughed Tom. "The credit for this stunt belongs to good little Nicolas!"
The servant uttered a protesting cry, but too late. Tom had spoken indiscreetly.
"Nicolas! You? You little mountain rat of a peon!" growled
Gato. "Excellent! I am glad I know, for I shall destroy you."
Nicolas cowered and shivered before the baleful glare in the larger Mexican's eyes. But Tom took a savage grip of one of Gato's shoulders, digging in with his pressure until he made the scoundrel wince.
"You'd better go slow with that talk, Gato," Tom warned him. "If you don't we'll turn you over to Nicolas to do with as he pleases."
"All right," sneered Gato, not a whit dismayed. "He would dare to do nothing to me. He would be too afraid of the vengeance that he well knows stalks in these hills."
"It is all too true," shuddered Nicolas.
"Come, brace up, Nicolas, and be a man," Tom urged, slapping the servant cordially on the shoulder. "Don't be afraid of any man. Let Gato threaten you if he wants to. Nothing has happened to you yet, and he who is afraid is the only man that suffers. Come, Gato, you will have to get up on your feet. We can't let you delay us."
"I shall not stir a step," declared the fellow, grimly.
"Oh, yes, you will."