Tom, however, did not worry.

He knew that Nicolas was not far away, and that the little _peon_ was doubtless as valuable a scout as their expedition could have.
"I wish I had asked him to unload that gun, though," Reade muttered to himself.

"He's likely as not to hurt some one else beside the enemy with a stray bullet or two." Three miles further on Tom, Harry and their prisoner halted, for on the rough road they were now becoming winded.
"I am near, senores," whispered a familiar voice, though Nicolas did not show himself over the rocks that concealed him.
"Yes," sneered Gato, harshly, "you are indeed near--near death, you silly little fool.

Always before you have been safe because you were not a fighting man.

But now you have taken to deeds of arms, and you shall take your chances whenever you stir in these mountains.