"How do you do, Nicolas," responded Tom, holding out his hand, which the Mexican appeared too dazed, or too respectful to take. "We may find a servant useful. But we never kept slaves, and we wouldn't dream of calling any man a dog."
"I am your dog, caballeros," Nicolas asserted. "I am yours to do with as you wish. Beat me, if I do not perform my work well."
"But I wouldn't beat a dog. Almost any dog is too fine a fellow to be served in that fashion," Tom explained.
"Caballeros, I am here to receive your pleasure and commands concerning breakfast."
"Is it ready?" demanded Harry hopefully.
"The kitchen is open, and the cooks there," Nicolas responded. "When your excellency's orders have been given the cooks will prepare your meal with great dispatch."
"Has Don Luis come down yet?" Tom inquired.
"No; for his great excellency has not yet eaten," answered the peon.
"Oh! Then your master eats in his own room?" Tom asked.
"Don Luis eats always his breakfast in bed," Nicolas told them.