Neither the
negro nor the Mexican was where the young chief engineer had left them.
Feverishly, Tom began to search the ground, holding his lantern close.
"Hang the luck!" he quivered, pointing to fragments of cord on the sand.
"That negro simply burst his bonds---and now where is he? Where is
Nicolas, for that matter? I thought the little fellow, with his trick,
could easily take care of the big black."
But, though they spread out and searched, there was no sign of either the
negro or the little brown man.
"I can't understand what has happened," quivered Tom Reade, thinking more
of the staunch little Mexican than of the loss of the prisoner.
CHAPTER XVI
A TEST OF REAL NERVE
"What an idiot I was not to stop to consider that Sambo Ebony could snap
those cords!" groaned Tom, staring disconcertedly about him. "Yet, if
Nicolas were safe I wouldn't so much mind the escape of the black. I shall
see him again, and I shall know him wherever I see him."
"Let's look for the trail," proposed Foreman Corbett, holding one of the
lanterns close to the ground.
The trail, however, was easy neither to distinguish nor to follow.
"We may as well leave here and search farther," concluded the young
engineer.
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