At least so the owner claimed.
It was Senor Luis Montez himself who had gone to the nearest railway station, seventy miles distant, and there had made himself known, that forenoon, to the two young engineers from the United States.
Tom and Harry had come to _El Sombrero_ at the invitation of Montez.
After many careful inquiries as to their reputation and standing in their home country, Montez had engaged the young men as engineers to help him develop his great mine.

Nor had he hesitated to pay the terms they had named--one thousand dollars, gold, per month, for each, and all expenses paid.
Over mountain trails, through the day, much of the way had of necessity been made slowly.

Wherever the dusty, irregular roads had permitted greater speed, the swarthy Mexican who had served Senor Montez as chauffeur on the trip had opened wide on the speed.
At the end of their long automobile ride Tom and Harry fairly ached from the jolting they had received.
"There are other beautiful features of this gr-r-rand country of mine," the Mexican mine owner continued, lighting his second cigar.

"I am a noble, you know, Senor Tomaso.

In my veins flows the noble blood of the hidalgos of good old Spain.