The Young Engineers in Mexico | Page 7

about to go down into a mine will be
top-boots, khaki trousers and flannel shirts."
"But will that be suitable to go to breakfast in?" Harry asked. "Will it
be showing sufficient courtesy to our host? And suppose the daughter
should be at table?"
"That's so," Reade nodded. "I am sorry that we didn't fish for points last
evening."
A knock came at the door.
"Aqui!" (here) Tom answered.
The door opened slowly. A man servant of perhaps twenty-five years,
attired in clean white clothes, but bare-footed, stood in the doorway,
bowing very low.
"Buenos dias, caballeros!" (good morning, gentlemen) was his
greeting.
Tom invited him to enter.
"Caballeros," announced the peon, "I am your servant, your slave, your
dog! My name is Nicolas."
"How do you do, Nicolas," responded Tom, holding out his hand,
which the Mexican appeared too dazed, or too respectful to take. "We
may find a servant useful. But we never kept slaves, and we wouldn't
dream of calling any man a dog."
"I am your dog, caballeros," Nicolas asserted. "I am yours to do with as
you wish. Beat me, if I do not perform my work well."
"But I wouldn't beat a dog. Almost any dog is too fine a fellow to be
served in that fashion," Tom explained.

"Caballeros, I am here to receive your pleasure and commands
concerning breakfast."
"Is it ready?" demanded Harry hopefully.
"The kitchen is open, and the cooks there," Nicolas responded. "When
your excellency's orders have been given the cooks will prepare your
meal with great dispatch."
"Has Don Luis come down yet?" Tom inquired.
"No; for his great excellency has not yet eaten," answered the peon.
"Oh! Then your master eats in his own room?" Tom asked.
"Don Luis eats always his breakfast in bed," Nicolas told them.
"Then I guess we were too fresh, Tom, in getting up," laughed Harry.
As this was spoken in English, Nicolas, not understanding, paid no
heed. Tom and Harry, on the other hand, had a conversational
smattering of Spanish, for in Arizona they had had a large force of
Mexican laborers working under them.
"Nicolas, my good boy," Tom went on, "we are quite new to the ways
of Mexico. We shall have to ask you to explain some matters to us."
"I am a dog," said Nicolas, gravely, "but even a dog may speak
according to his knowledge."
"Then of what does the breakfast here usually consist?"
"Of anything in Don Luis's larder," replied the peon grandly.
"Yet surely there must be some rule about the meal."
"The only rule, excellency, is the pleasure of the host."
"What does Don Luis, then, usually order?"

"Chocolate," replied the servant.
"Nothing else?"
"And a roll or two, excellency."
"What does he eat after that?" Harry demanded, rather anxiously.
"Nothing, caballero, until the next meal."
"Chocolate and a roll or two," muttered Harry. "I am afraid that
wouldn't hold me through a day's work. Not even a forenoon's toil. I
never did like to diet on a plan of tightening my belt."
"Anything for which the caballero will ask shall be brought," replied
Nicolas, with another bow.
"How about a steak, Tom?" Harry asked, turning to his chum.
"Pardon, excellency, but we have no such thing here," Nicolas
interposed, meekly.
"Eggs?" Harry guessed.
"Excellency, we shall hope to have some eggs by to-morrow,"
"Harry, you idiot, why didn't you ask for mince pie and doughnuts,
too?" laughed Reade.
"Nicolas, my boy, the trouble with me," Harry explained, "is that
chocolate and rolls will never hold my soul and body together for more
than an hour at a time. Chocolate and rolls by all means, but help us out
a bit. What can we call for that is more hearty."
"There are tortillas to be had sometimes," the servant answered. "Also,
sometimes, frijoles."
"They both sound good," Harry assented vaguely. "Bring us some."

"Caballeros, you shall be served with the speed at which the eagle
flies!" exclaimed the servant. With a separate bow to each he withdrew,
softly closing the door after him.
"Now Harry, let's hustle into some clothes," urged Tom. "Since we are
to eat here mine clothes will be the thing. Hustle into them!"
Bred in the ways of the camps, ten minutes later Tom and Harry were
washed, dressed and otherwise tidy in every respect.
"I've a mind to go outdoors and get some glimpses of the scenery for a
few minutes," Harry hinted.
"Don't think of it. You don't want to come back to a cold breakfast."
So both seated themselves, regretting the absence of morning
newspapers.
Then the time began to drag. Finally the delay became wearisome.
"I wonder how many people Nicolas is serving this morning?"
murmured Hazelton, at last.
"Everyone in the house would be my guess," laughed