“Why?  Is Gato on the warpath for us?” Tom questioned.

“I fear so,” Nicolas answered.  “Don’t let him see you.”

“But I must see him, if the fellow is out for us,” muttered Tom.  “Show me where he is.”

“He and three or four men are camped just around there,” said the Mexican servant, pointing.

“Come along, Harry,” Tom whispered.  “Go cat-foot.”

Ere the young engineers came in sight around the turn a slight glow of light against the stones caught their glance.  Tom held a hand behind him as a signal to Hazelton to slow up.  Then Reade peered around a jutting ledge of rock.

On the ground, around a low camp-fire, were seated four Mexicans.  Two of the number had rifles, that lay on the ground near them.  Behind them, an ugly scowl on his face, sat Gato, his back resting against a rock.

“But you will not find your enemies out here to-night, Senor Gato,” softly remarked one of the quartette around the fire.

“No,” admitted Gato, in a growling voice.

“Then why are we waiting here?”

“Because it pleases me,” snapped the big fellow.  “What ails you?  Am I not paying you?”

“But two of us—­and I am one of them—­do not like to be seen,” rejoined the speaker at the fire.  “The troops hunt us.  There is a price on our heads.”

“Bandits!” muttered Tom Reade, under his breath, as he drew back.  “I have heard that Mexico is overrun with bandits.  These gentlemen are some of the fraternity.”

“Take us up to the house, Gato,” urged one of the men at the fire.  “We shall know how to enter and find your friends.  Everyone sleeps there.  It will be the safer way.”

“It does not suit me,” retorted Gato, sullenly.

“But why not?”

“Am I not paying you?”

“Yes.”

“Then take my orders and do not ask questions.”

At this there were sounds of dissatisfaction from all four of these bad men.

“For one thing,” Gato explained, “Don Luis would not like it.  He would accuse me of treachery—­or worse.  I do not want Don Luis’s ill will, you see.”

“But Don Luis will be angry, in any case, if you injure his engineers, won’t he?” asked one of the men.

“A little, but after a while, Don Luis will not care what I do to the Americanos,” growled Pedro Gato.

“Humph!  That’s interesting—­if true,” whispered Tom Reade.

“Yet what are we doing here?” insisted one of the men.  “Here, so close to where the troops might pick us up?”

“You are obeying orders,” snarled Gato.

“But that information is not quite enough to suit us,” objected one of the Mexicans.

“You might go your own way, then,” sneered Gato.  “I can find other men who are not so curious.  However, I will say that, when daylight comes, we will hide not far from here.  None of you know the Americanos by sight.  I will point them out to you as they pass by in the daylight.”