“Thank you very much, Lieutenant.  I will readily undertake that,” agreed Montez, smiling.  “Then come, Senores Reade and Hazelton, and I will interrupt my journey to take you back to safety under a hospitable roof.”

“I don’t know that I wouldn’t rather go with the soldiers,” Harry muttered to his chum.

“No!” murmured Reade.  “I’ve heard too much about these Mexican prisons to care anything about going to one.  I reckon we’d better go with Don Luis.  After we’ve rid ourselves of military guard, and have reached the Montez estate, we are at least released from our word of honor not to attempt an escape.  I guess, Harry, we had better take up with Don Luis’s rascally offer.”

“Well, caballeros, does it need much discussion to enable you to accept my kindness?” called Montez, banteringly.

“Not at all, Don Luis,” Tom made answer.  “We’re going with you—­with the lieutenant’s consent.”

The young lieutenant bowed his agreement.  Tom and Harry lifted their hats lightly to the officer, then stepped into the tonneau of the car.

“Home,” said Don Luis.

The chauffeur made a quick turn, and the car speedily left the camp behind.

“I have often heard, gentlemen, that foreigners have difficulty in understanding our laws,” observed Don Luis.  He spoke affably, but mockery lurked in his tones.  “Without realizing it you two have committed a serious offense against our laws.  You have ventured to arrest a Mexican citizen.”

Nicolas, who sat in front with the chauffeur, sat as stiff and silent as though he had been a figure of stone.

“What will be the outcome of this adventure, under the law?” Tom inquired, dryly.

“It would need one of our judges to say that,” replied Don Luis, shrugging his shoulders.  “However, I may be able to arrange the matter with the authorities.”

“And, if you can’t arrange it—?”

“Why, then, I dare say, my friends, you will have to be arrested again.  Then you would be taken to one of our prisons until your trial came off.  You might even be held incommunicado, which means that, as prisoners, you would not be allowed to communicate with the outside world—­not even with your American government.”

“And how long would we be held incommunicado?” Tom asked.

Don Luis gave another shrug of his shoulders.

“You would be held incommunicado, Senor Reade, until the judges were ready to try you.”

“And that might be years off,” Tom muttered.

Don Luis beamed delightedly, while a thin smile curled on Dr. Tisco’s lips.

“You are beginning, senor, to get some grasp of Mexican law,” laughed Montez.

“In other words, Don Luis,” said Tom, dryly, “it’s a game wherein you can’t possibly lose, and we can remain out of prison only as long as you are gracious enough to will it?”

“That might be rather a strong way of stating the case,” murmured the Mexican.  “However, after your unlawful act of last night, you undoubtedly are liable to a long confinement in one of our prisons.  But believe me, Senor Reade, you may command me as far as my humble influence with our government goes!”