him," went in San Pedro in Spanish. "He is one good driver."
"Why does he carry a revolver?"
"A revolver, senor? Santa Maria, I know not! I"
"I'll find out," declared Tom determinedly. "Here," he called to the offending one, who straightened up quickly. "Come here!"
The man came, with all the cringing servility of a born native, and bowed low.
"Why have you a weapon?" asked the young inventor. "I gave orders that none of the drivers were to carry them."
"A revolver, senor? I have none! I"
"Rad, reach in his pocket!" cried Tom, and the colored man did so with a promptness that the other could not frustrate. Eradicate held aloft a large calibre, automatic weapon.
"What's that for?" asked Tom, virtuously angry.
"I—er—I" and then, with a hopeless shrug of his shoulders the man turned away.
"Give him his gun, and get another driver, San Pedro," directed our hero, and with another shrug of his shoulders the man accepted the revolver, and walked slowly off. Another driver was not hard to engage, as several had been
