Ned took the two little bags that were so cautiously delivered to him, and while he was putting them away in the inner pockets of his jacket, his mind was giving him vivid pictures of the knives and machetes and their bearers, whom he had seen in the street. "Captain," he said, "those fellows out there wouldn't wait for any gold. A silver dollar would buy one of them." "Half a dollar," replied the captain. "Not one of them is worth a shilling. They ought all to be shot. But look here. I mustn't come to Colonel Tassara's place again. I find that he is under some kind of suspicion already, and President Paredes makes short work of men whom he suspects of plotting against him. Go! Get home!" "That's just about what I'd like to do," said Ned to himself, as he hurried out of the consulate, but the next moment his courage began to come back to him, for here was Senor Zuroaga's ferocious-looking follower, and with him were four others, who might have been his cousins or his brothers, from their looks, for they all were Oaxaca Indians, of unmixed descent. Their tribe had faithfully served the children and grandchildren of Hernando Cortes, the Conquistador, from the day when he and his brave adventurers cut their way into the Tehuantepec valley. CHAPTER VII. THE LAND OF THE MONTEZUMAS "Father Crawford, do read that newspaper! The war has begun! They are fighting great battles on the Rio Grande! Oh, how I wish you hadn't sent Ned to Mexico! He may get killed!" She was a woman of middle age, tall, fine-looking, and she was evidently much excited. She was standing at one end of a well-set breakfast table, and was holding out a printed sheet to a gentleman who had been looking down at his plate, as if he were asking serious questions of it. "My dear," he said, as he took the paper, "I knew it was coming, but I didn't think it would come so soon as this. I don't really see that Ned is in any danger. Captain Kemp will take care of him." "But," she said, "the _Goshhawk_ may be captured." "No," replied Mr. Crawford, confidently. "She hasn't sailed across prairie to the Rio Grande. There won't be any fighting at Vera Cruz for ever so long. There can't be any on the sea, for Mexico has no navy. The _Goshhawk_ is entirely safe, and so is Ned. It'll be a grand experience for him." "I don't want him to have so much experience at his age," she said, anxiously. "I'd rather he'd be at home,--if there's going to be a war." "I've often wished that I could see a war," replied her husband, as he glanced over the black-typed headings of the newspaper columns. "I've travelled a good deal in Mexico, and I wanted Ned to learn all he could of that country. He will hardly have any chance to do so now." "He might see too much of it if he were taken prisoner," she exclaimed. "I can't bear to think of it! Oh, how I wish he were at home!"