"Home," said Don Luis.
The chauffeur made a quick turn, and the car speedily left the camp behind.
"I have often heard, gentlemen, that foreigners have difficulty in understanding our laws," observed Don Luis. He spoke affably, but mockery lurked in his tones. "Without realizing it you two have committed a serious offense against our laws. You have ventured to arrest a Mexican citizen."
Nicolas, who sat in front with the chauffeur, sat as stiff and silent as though he had been a figure of stone.
"What will be the outcome of this adventure, under the law?" Tom inquired, dryly.
"It would need one of our judges to say that," replied Don Luis, shrugging his shoulders. "However, I may be able to arrange the matter with the authorities."
"And, if you can't arrange it—?"
"Why, then, I dare say, my friends, you will have to be arrested again. Then you would be taken to one of our prisons until your trial came off. You might even be held incommunicado, which means that, as prisoners, you would not be allowed to communicate with the outside world—not even with your American government."
"And how long would we be held incommunicado?" Tom asked.
Don Luis gave another shrug of his shoulders.