“Why, it reads like a romance!” the girl cried, clapping her hands when the reading had finished.

“A romance?  Yes!” ground Tom, under his breath.  “It is romance—­pure fiction and absurdly false in every line!”

“It must be a wonderful talent to possess, senor,” said Francesca, turning to Tom Reade.  “A wonderful talent to be able to describe a matter of business in such eloquent language.”

“It is a rare gift,” Tom admitted modestly, though he had a design in what he was saying.  “A rare gift, indeed, and one which I must not claim.  This is your father’s report, not mine.  He had written it in English, and all I did was to copy it on the typewriter, and to make the English stronger at points.  So I am not the author—­merely the clerk.”

Don Luis frowned for a fleeting instant.  Then his brow cleared, and one of his charming smiles lighted his face.

“The report is a superb piece of work, and you must not believe as much as Senor Tomaso’s modesty would lead him to believe, chiquita.  But this is an engineer’s report, and, as such, it is not complete until it is signed.  Hand it to Senor Reade, chiquita, and ask him to sign it.  Then Senor Hazelton will do the same.”

Francesca accepted the document from her father, turned, and, with a fascinating smile, handed it to the young chief engineer.

It was a cleverly contrived bit of business, in which the girl played a wholly innocent part.  Francesca dipped a pen in ink and offered it to Tom, who accepted it.  Surely, he could not embarrass the girl, nor could he seem to refuse to add to her fortune by any means within his power.  Don Luis had brought about the climax with great cleverness, for he felt certain of Tom Reade’s gallantry.

And gallant Tom Reade ever was.  Yet he was keen and self-possessed as well.  While he held the pen in his hand be turned to the Mexican with one of his pleasantest smiles.

“Don Luis,” said the young engineer, “I feel certain that you did not wholly understand what I said yesterday.  What I meant to make clear was that an engineer’s signature to a report is his written word of honor that every word in the report is true, to his own knowledge.  As I merely transcribed this report from your own, and have not yet had sufficient opportunity to prove to myself the value of the mine, I could not in honor sign this report as yet.  As a man of honor you will certainly understand my position.”

“But you are too particular on a point of honor,” insisted Don Luis Montez, with a shrug of his shoulders.  “You do not need to draw the line so sharply with a man of honor.  I assure you that every word in the report is true.  Therefore, will you not be so good as to sign the report?”

“I regret that I have not yet succeeded in making an engineer’s point of honor clear,” Tom replied, placing the pen back on the stand.  “It will be some weeks, Don Luis, before Hazelton and I can possibly hope to find ourselves sufficiently well informed about the mine to sign the report.”