"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.