"
Nicolas entered, an envelope in his hand.
"Par-rdon, Senor Reade," begged the Mexican. "I would not interrupt, but
on the porch I found thees letter. It is address to you."
Tom took the envelope and scanned it, saying:
"The address is printed---probably because the writer didn't want to run
the risk of having his writing identified. Probably the letter, also, is
printed. Pardon me, gentlemen, while I open this communication . . . Yes;
the letter is printed, and unsigned---a further sign of cowardice on the
part of the writer. And now let me see what it says."
Tom spent a few moments in going through the communication. A white line
formed around his mouth as he read. Then he passed the letter to Harry,
who read it aloud, as follows:
_"You have had a week of peace. Is peace better than war? You may have
all the peace you wish, and go on working and prospering if you will let
others do the same. Stop interfering with the right of your men to amuse
themselves and all will be well. Try any of your former tricks in the
camp, and then you will have good cause to 'Beware!'"_
"Is that a declaration of war?" asked Harry, looking up.
"I think so," nodded Tom.
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