"Humph! We'll be lucky if we can get out of these mountains without killing any one," grunted Hazelton.
"Cheer up!" laughed Tom. "The whole world hasn't turned black just because we've skipped our luncheon."
"I wouldn't mind the luncheon," Harry began, "if—"
He stopped short, as he caught a glimpse of the spot where they had left their trunks.
"Tom, let's hustle back to where we left our trunks," he whispered.
"I just saw some one moving about on that spot"
"Oh, if any thief is after our baggage, let him have it," smiled Tom. "The stuff all goes to a thief in the end, anyway, for we know that we can't carry our trunks with us."
But that didn't suit. Hazelton, who still felt as though he owned his own trunk. So he started back, soft-footed. Presently they came in sight of a human being seated on Reade's trunk.
"Nicolas!" breathed Tom.
"Si, senor," (yes, sir) returned the servant.
"But what are you doing here?"