CHAPTER XIV.
THE CASE IS WELL STATED.
It was a long, tedious climb back up the side of the slope.

With almost every step the night watchman and the Mexican clamored for a hearing, for details of the charge against them, but they met with scant courtesy.

Both Nestor and Lieutenant Gordon understood that they were fearful that they were to be taken at once back to New York, in which case they would be deprived of a chance to plunder the hidden mine, which they had come so far to find.

Nestor had explained, very briefly, to the lieutenant that the Mexican and the watchman were there in quest of treasure, but had not confided to him the whole story of the Cameron tragedy, it being separate and distinct from the issue which had brought the secret service men to Mexico.
Don Miguel maintained a dignified silence--as dignified as a panting man can hold--through-out the tiresome journey, except on one occasion.
Once, while the night watchman was violently demanding information concerning the crime with which he was to be charged, the diplomat asked: "Why are you so silent concerning the man's alleged crime?
It appears to me that you are conducting an abduction rather than an arrest.

I, also, am anxious to know something of the charges against me." "You shall know in good time," replied the lieutenant.
"I believe," Don Miguel went on, "that I can convince even you, prejudiced though you are, that you are making a great mistake--a costly mistake, both for yourself and your government." "When we reach the tents I will listen to you," was the short reply, and the little party went on its way in silence for a long time, silent save for the mutterings of the Mexican and his fellow-conspirator, as Nestor believed the watchman to be.
Moonlight lay like a silver mist over the stubborn paths the party was following.