The Young Engineers in Mexico | Page 8

Tom. Still time
dragged by.
"What on earth will Don Luis think of us?" Harry grunted.
"There is only one thing for it, if this delay lasts any longer," Tom
answered. "If this delay lasts much longer we shall have to put off
breakfast until to-morrow and get to work."
"Put off breakfast until to-morrow?" Hazelton gasped. "That's where I
draw the line. Before I'll stir a step from here I must have at least food
enough to grubstake a canary bird."
Some minutes later, Nicolas rapped at the door. He then entered,
bearing a tray enveloped in snowy linen. This tray he put down, then
spread a tablecloth that he had brought over one arm.

"Will you be seated, _caballeros_?" he asked, respectfully, as he took
his stand by the tray. Then he whisked away the linen cover. Gravely
he set upon the table a pot of chocolate, two dainty cups and saucers
and a plate containing four rolls.
"Where's the butter, Nicolas?" asked Harry.
"Butter, _caballero_? I did not understand that you wished it. I will get
it. I will run all the way to the kitchen and back."
"Never mind the butter this morning, Nicolas," spoke up Tom, at the
same time kicking Harry gently under the table.
"Can I serve you further, now, _caballeros_" inquired Nicolas, with
great respect, "or shall I bring you the remainder of your breakfast?"
"Bring us the rest of the breakfast, by all means," begged Harry, and
the servant left them.
"Why did you tell him not to mind the butter?" grunted Hazelton.
"Because," Tom answered, "it struck me that, in Mexico, it may not be
customary to serve butter in the morning."
Harry took a bite of one of the rolls, finding it to be soft, flaky and
delicious. Then he removed another linen covering from the pot and
started to pour the chocolate. That beverage did not come as freely as
he had expected.
"What ails the stuff?" grunted Hazelton. "This isn't the first of April."
Then Harry removed the lid from the pot, glancing inside, next he
picked up a spoon and stirred the contents of the pot.
"I wish Nicolas were here," said Hazelton.
"Why?" Tom wanted to know.
"I'm bothered about what's etiquette in Mexico. I don't know whether

it's right to eat this stuff with a knife, or whether we're expected to
spread the stuff on the rolls."
"It is pretty thick stuff," Tom agreed, after taking a look. "But let me
have the pot and the spoon. I think I can manage it."
After some work Tom succeeded in reducing the chocolate to a
consistency that admitted of pouring, though very slowly.
"It took you almost three minutes to pour two cups," said Harry,
returning his watch to his pocket. "Come on, now! We've got to make
up for lost time. What will Don Luis think of us? And yet it is his
household arrangements that are keeping us away from our work."
Chocolate and rolls were soon disposed of. Then the two engineers sat
back, wondering whether Nicolas had deserted them. Finally, both rose
and walked to stretch their legs.
"No restaurant in New York has anything on this place for slow-march
service!" growled Hazelton.
As all things must come at last, so did Nicolas. He carried a tray and
was followed by a second servant, bringing another.
The tortillas proved to be, as Harry put it, "a cross between a biscuit
and flapjack." The frijoles were just plain boiled beans, which had
evidently been cooked on some other day, and were now mushy. But it
was a very solid meal that now lay before them, and the young
engineers ate heartily.
"Will the caballeros have some more chocolate?" suggested Nicolas.
"Not now," said Hazelton. "But you might order some for to-morrow's
breakfast, and then we shan't have to wait for so long next time."
The additional servant had gone, noiselessly, but Nicolas hovered about,
silently.
At last the meal was finished. Tom had chewed his food thoroughly,

what he had eaten of it, but Harry, in his hunger, had eaten hurriedly.
"Now we'll have to find Don Luis and apologize," hinted Tom.
"Hereafter I can see that we shall have to rise much earlier. Confound it,
it's a quarter of nine, already."
The two youngsters hastened out to the veranda. A man servant was
lazily dusting and placing porch chairs.
"Has Don Luis gone to the mine?" asked Tom in Spanish.
"Don Luis?" repeated the servant, in evident astonishment. "Presently
his excellency will be dressing."
"Thank you," nodded Tom, and paced the veranda, leisurely. "Harry,
we didn't make such a bad break after all, then. Plainly Don Luis didn't
plan an early start."
"Is Dr. Tisco around?" asked Harry, of the servant.
"The learned doctor