Tom's alarm clock woke him that morning. In another moment Reade was vigorously shaking Hazelton.
"Now don't give a sign to-day," Tom whispered to his friend. "If Don Luis is going to be crafty, we shall have to fight him with craft—at the outset, anyway."
"I hate to eat the old scoundrel's food," muttered Harry.
"So do I, but it can't be helped for the present. We're not guilty of a breach of hospitality in planning to show the rascal up. It is Don Luis who is guilty in that direction. He is planning to use his guests as puppets in a dishonest game. Keep up your nerve, Harry, and don't let your face, your manner, or anything give you away."
Nicolas knocked as soon as he heard the boys stirring. He moved with speed this morning, spreading the table and then rushing away for chocolate, frijoles and tortillas.
As soon as the boys had finished their breakfast they hastened out to the porch, but they found their host ahead of them. More, Don Luis wore field clothing and high-topped, laced walking boots.
"Going afield, sir?" Tom inquired, genially.
"I have been afield, already," replied Montez, bowing and smiling. "Down to the mine I have been and back. The air is beautiful here in the early morning, and I enjoyed the walk. You, too, will enjoy our walks when you become used to them."
Dr. Tisco came out, bowing most affably to the young Americans.
"You look as though you had been walking, too," suggested Tom, noting Tisco's high-topped shoes.