"Don Luis," promised Tom, earnestly, "we shall stand by that report first, last and through to the finish. We shall not—by word, gesture, wink, or by any trick or device—give your coming American visitors the least warning that the report is not fully as honest as it appears to be."
We shall back you firmly and as strongly as we know how, and help you in any way in our power to put the deal through. Can we promise you more?"
"No," said the mine owner. "And, on my part, I promise you that, if I sell the mine, as I now surely shall do, you shall have twenty thousand dollars, gold, apiece, and your lives also. Here is my hand on the pledge of an hidalgo."
Don Luis shook hands with both American engineers. Even as he did so a wolfish gleam crept into his eyes. Montez, in his mind's eye, already saw the two Gringos stretched on the ground in death in a remoter part of the mountains. That was to be his real reward to the young dupes of his villainy.
"When do you expect your purchasers?" Tom Reade inquired.
"Two days after to-morrow, Senor Reade. But, in the meantime, now that we are friends and really partners—will you not come over and share the comforts of my poor home while we wait?"
"You will pardon us for not accepting, Don Lids," Tom urged. "We have met your wishes, and shall continue to meet them, but we feel that we would rather remain where we are—at least, until your visitors arrive."
"So be it, then," muttered Don Luis. Yet he appeared slightly offended by their decision. Since the young engineers had now proved themselves to be as great rascals as he himself, Don Luis Montez could not understand why they should refuse to associate with him.
"You wish me to leave you alone, now?" asked the mine owner, smiling rather coldly.
"Only when you wish to leave us, Don Luis," Tom protested, so artlessly that the Mexican felt less offended.