The Young Engineers in Mexico Part 30

The stranger gazed up wistfully at the young engineer's kindly face.

"Senor," he asked, "you would not betray me?"

"You mean to Don Luis?"

A weak nod was the answer.

"Rest easy on that score, my friend," Tom begged, dryly. "Don Luis and I are not on the best of terms. I do not like him very well myself."

"Will you help to hide me here, and then go away and be silent?"

"Go away and leave you here?" suggested Reade.

"Yes, senor. It will be a great favor."

"It would be murder," Tom retorted. "Man, you're ill and you need care--nursing. I don't know much about doctoring, but if you have any reason why you don't want Don Luis to know you're here, then I'll do the best I can for you here. I have a chum who'll help me. You have been traveling for some time?" Tom continued, his glance taking in the stranger's well-worn shoes and trousers.

"That is true, yes," nodded the stranger.

"You've been over a rough road, also," Tom continued, "and now you're ill. Your pulse is a hundred and twenty, and you're breathing thirty-two times to the minute. You must have a good bed, be covered comfortably and have plenty of water to drink while we're getting some medicines for you."

"You are indeed kind, but I fear," protested the stranger, "that you will attract attention my way, and then I shall be captured."

Tom studied the face of the sick man keenly.

"I wish you would tell me something about yourself," the young engineer hinted. "It might help me to decide what it is best to do for you."

"Senor," begged the stranger, with a start of dread "it would be a great kindness to me if you would go away and leave me here.

Do not come back--and forget that you have seen me."

"It can't be done," replied Tom, with gentle positiveness. "It wouldn't be in American nature to go away and leave a fellow creature to die of helplessness when a little care and nursing ought to put that man on his feet again. But I won't argue with you, for I see the excitement is bringing a deeper flush into your face.

Senor, as you are a gentleman trust another gentleman to serve you loyally and not betray you. I am going to leave you for a little while. Will you give me your word to remain here until I return?"

"Yes," nodded the other, weakly.

"I'll wrap this around you," Reade continued, taking off his own blouse and wrapping it around the thin body of the older man.

"This will help you a little if you are taken with chills. I shall be back as soon as I can possibly come without attracting attention. Do not be startled if you hear other footsteps than my own. I shall bring with me a friend. I would trust in his hands anything or all that I have in the world. Will you trust me to serve you, senor?"

"I shall trust you," promised the other, simply. "In truth, my young friend, I have many reasons why I could wish to recover of this illness and be well again."

Tom slipped away, then rose to his full height, and resumed his late appearance of lounging along without an object. As he neared the camp he espied Nicolas, whom he had forgotten.

"Our little fellow came back, you see," called Harry, as Tom neared the tents. "What have you been doing?"

"Loafing," yawned Reade, as he strolled up. When he reached the cook tent, however, he stepped inside and the Mexican servant followed him.

"Senor," Nicolas reported, in a whisper, "I think I succeeded in my errand."

"But you do not yet know?" queried Tom.

"How can I know so soon, senor?" questioned Nicolas.

"True," nodded Tom.

Then he stepped outside the tent, remarking: "Our food supply is so low, Nicolas, that I fear you will have to take the basket and go after more."

"It shall be done, senor," promised the servant, and going into the tent appeared a moment later with a basket.

Tom handed him some money.

"I am listening to your orders, senor."

"Oh, you know as well what food to get as I do," Tom rejoined.

"But," he added, under his voice, "you _must_ get me some--"

Here Tom added the Spanish names of three or four drugs that he wanted.

"I think I shall be able to get the drugs, senor. Some of the _peons_ must keep them in their houses."

"You must get them, as I said. Now, make good time. I will await your return."

Then Tom drew Harry aside, describing the finding of the fever-stricken stranger.

"Who on earth can he be?" wondered Harry, curiously. "And what can he be doing in this out of the way part of the world?"

"That's his own secret," retorted Tom, dryly; and the man is bent on keeping it. There are only two things that we need to know--one that he is ill, and the other that he is very plainly a gentleman, who would be incapable of repaying our kindness with any treachery.

What do you say, Harry? Shall we bring him here and look after him?"

"That's for you to say, Tom."

"It's half for you to say, Harry. Half the risk is also yours, if anything goes wrong."

"Tom, I feel the same way that you do about it," Harry declared, his eyes shining brightly. "A fellow creature in distress is one whom we can't pa.s.s by. We can't leave him to die. Such a thing would haunt me as long as I live. When do you want to go after him?"

"Just as soon as it's dark," Reade replied. "That will be within the hour, for here in the tropics night comes soon after the sun sets."

When the time came Tom and Harry left their tent, strolling slowly.

It was very dark and the young engineers listened intently as they went along. They found their stranger and lifted him from the ground. He was so slight and frail that he proved no burden whatever. Apparently without having been seen by any one Reade and Hazelton bore their man back to camp.

"Into the cook tent," whispered Reade. "Don Luis, if he should visit us, is less likely to look there than anywhere else."

Into the cook tent they bore the stranger, arranging a bed on the floor, and covering the sick man with such blankets as his condition appeared to call for.

"I am back, _caballeros_," announced Nicolas, treading softly into the tent. "To the praise of Heaven, be it said, I secured the medicines you told me to get."

Then Nicolas stopped short, gazing wonderingly at the fever-flushed face of the stranger.