For a time, Kit wandered about the arcade, talking now and then to people he knew. The doctor had forbidden him to return to Adam's room and the president said it was important the guests should not know that anything unusual had happened. Although Kit watched the stairs anxiously, nobody came down, but he saw the mayor-domo going quietly about and servants came and went on mysterious errands. When he looked out he found the sentries had been doubled on the terrace and one stopped when, for a few moments, Kit left the arch, but the soldier knew him and marched on. While it was obvious that the waiter was being looked for, Kit thought the search had begun too late.

At length, Alvarez sent for him, and although his heart beat as he followed the messenger he felt some relief when he saw the president.

"I have good news," the latter said. "The doctor is no longer anxious and you may see your uncle in the morning. It looks as if Don Adam's caution saved him."

"You mean when he refused the anisado?"

Alvarez nodded. "It is a strong-smelling liquor and one drinks a small quantity, taking water afterwards, if one wants. Don Adam knows the country, and after all my enemies have not much imagination. To offer him anisado was a rather obvious trick."

"I'm thankful they failed," Kit said sternly, and clenched his fist with sudden passion. "If they had not—"

"One understands, Don Cristoval; I have felt like that when the plotters did not fail," Alvarez answered with grim sympathy. He was silent for a moment or two and Kit imagined he was thinking about his murdered son. Then he resumed: "Well, we shall have a reckoning and it will be bad for the dogs when I send in my bill. But that must wait, and I would like you to dance. I see SeÑorita Sarmiento is not engaged and she dances well."

"I doubt if Dona Francisca would care to dance with me again."

"Ah," said Alvarez, "one should not be too modest! Francisca is a politician, but she is a woman. Perhaps you found she is not on my side?"

"I imagined she was not."

Alvarez shrugged. "Well, I do not fight with women, although they are sometimes dangerous. Try again, my friend. Just now we are all playing at make-believe."

Kit obeyed and found Francisca gracious. She danced with him and afterwards allowed him to sit by her. By and by she remarked: "I have not seen SeÑor Askew for some time."

"He was not very well," said Kit.

Francisca studied his face. "I hope his illness is not serious. I thought
I saw Doctor Martin."

"Fever. My uncle gets it now and then."

"I think I warned you against our fevers," Francisca replied meaningly.
"There are two or three kinds, but all are not dangerous."

"Some are?" Kit suggested.

"Yes; to foreigners. We others take precautions and are acclimatized."

"Well," said Kit in a thoughtful voice, "I have not had fever yet, but I suppose an unacclimatized adventurer runs some risk."

Francisca played with her fan and Kit imagined she was pondering.

"A risk that leads to nothing is not worth while," she remarked. "I think it would be prudent if you left the country while you are well."

"I should be sorry if I thought you wanted me to go," said Kit.

"That is cheap, seÑor. I gave you good advice."

"Oh, well," said Kit, "I really think you did. There are matters about which we do not agree; but I believe you are too kind to let a rather ignorant antagonist get hurt."

Franciscans eyes twinkled as she rejoined: "I like the compliment better than the other. But I am engaged for the next dance and as you are intelligent there is not much more to be said."

Kit went away, thinking rather hard. The girl had some part in the intrigue against the president, and it would obviously be an advantage to her friends if he could be persuaded to leave the country now Adam was ill. Admitting this, he thought her warning sincere. On the whole, he liked Francisca Sarmiento and believed she did not want him to be hurt. If Adam did not get much better and he had to look after things, he would certainly run some risk of a cunning attack by the president's enemies.

When the guests began to leave, Kit went to his room and after some hours of broken sleep was told that Adam wanted him. He found Alvarez in the room and Adam lying, with a flushed face and wet forehead, in a big cane chair. When Kit came in Adam gave him a friendly smile and turned to Alvarez.

"If I'd taken that drink at a wineshop, I'd have deserved all I got," he said. "I allowed I was safe at the presidio."

"It is a stain on my hospitality for which somebody shall pay."

"That's all right," said Adam; "you're not accountable. Looks as if the other fellow was too smart for both of us; but I had a feeling I'd better stick to tinto and siphon. You can generally taste anything suspicious in that mixture and I've been doped before. But, as I'm an American citizen and American influence is powerful, I didn't expect they'd be bold enough to get after me."

Alvarez smiled. "Our climate is unhealthy, but if you had died and suspicion was excited, your countrymen would have made the president responsible. That would have been another embarrassment and I have enough."

"Galdar's friends are a cunning lot," Adam replied. "Well, I think your doctor has fixed me up for a time. What about your plans?"

"I had some talk with my supporters last night and we agreed to strike when the Rio Negro's cargo arrives. We need the guns and money to pay my troops, and when we get them we will arrest the leading conspirators. This will start the revolution, but it will fail if my blow is struck before Galdar is ready."

"Yes," said Adam. "We can trust Mayne; he knows he's got to hustle. I've fixed it for him to get the Spanish money at Havana and that will mean losing a day or two, but the old Rio Negro can hit up a pretty good pace and Mayne won't spare his coal. I reckon we'll hear from him soon."

Adam stopped and Kit, seeing that it cost him an effort to talk, took the president away. They met the doctor on the stairs and Kit waited at the bottom until he came down. SeÑor Martin was a fat, dark-skinned, Spanish Creole.

"Your uncle is an obstinate man and will not take a hint," he remarked.
"I had some trouble to save him and he may not escape next time."

"Then you imagine there will be another time?"

SeÑor Martin shrugged expressively, "I am a doctor not a politician, but in this country much depends upon the risk of being found out. SeÑor Askew is old and not strong. One must pay for leading a strenuous life and he has had malaria for some years. He ought to remain in the North. It is your business to persuade him, but do not disturb him yet."

"I will try," Kit said doubtfully. "You think it needful?"

"If he does not go soon, he will not go at all," the doctor replied in a meaning tone.

He went away and some time afterwards Kit returned to his uncle's room. The shutters were pushed back from the balcony window and the strong light, reflected by the white wall, showed the thinness of Adam's figure and the deep lines on his face. His skin was a curious yellow color and his eyes were dull.

"You haven't been well for some time and the stuff you got last night has shaken you rather badly," Kit remarked with a touch of embarrassment. "I think you ought to go back with Mayne."

"You imagine you can manage things better without me?" Adam rejoined.

"No," said Kit, coloring. "It's a big and awkward job, but perhaps I can manage. I feel you ought to go."

"It looks as if the doctor had put you on my track. He's been arguing with me. What did he say?"

Kit hesitated and Adam smiled. "I can guess, partner, and perhaps he was right. Well, I'm getting old and have a notion I won't live long, anyway. Don't see that it matters much if I go or stay, and I've a reason for staying you don't know yet. Besides, I hate to be beaten and mean to put over my last job." He paused and gave Kit a steady look. "There's one drawback; putting it over may cost you something."

"That doesn't count," Kit said quietly. "What you have is yours; I expect you earned it hard."

"I certainly did," Adam agreed. "I earned part of what I've got by jobs that cost me more than my health. I'd wipe out some of my early deals, if I could. Well, I don't know if playing a straight game on a losing hand will cancel past mistakes, but I feel I've got to play it out. My wad and yours are in the pool."

"It's not my wad," Kit objected. "You have treated me generously."

"Oh, well!" said Adam. "Perhaps I'll ask you to remember that by and by. In the meantime, I've no use for arguing and am going to stop. We'll say no more about it, but if I'm too sick to handle things, you'll take control. You know my plans, and that's enough; I don't need your promises that you won't let me down. Now you can get out. I'm going to sleep."

Kit went away, feeling moved, but anxious. His uncle trusted him and he had got strangely fond of the Buccaneer. Adam had his faults and his career had been marked by incidents that were hard to justify, but he was staunch to his friends. Kit did not know how far Alvarez deserved his staunch support, and suspected that Adam was, to some extent, moved by pride. He meant to make good before he let things go. Kit resolved that when the old man's hands lost the grip he would take firm hold.

Next day Adam was obviously worse and when two or three more had passed the doctor looked anxious. Then, one hot evening, the president brought Kit a letter addressed to his uncle.

"Don Adam is asleep and must not be disturbed," he said. "Perhaps you had better read this. It may be about the Rio Negro."

Kit opened the envelope and frowned. The letter was from Mayne, who stated that he had met bad weather soon after leaving port and the racing of the engines in a heavy sea had caused some damage. He had, however, reached Havana, where he had received the Spanish money, and did not know what to do. Some time would be required to repair the damage, but it would be risky to resume the voyage with disabled engines. Kit gave the letter to the president, whose dark face flushed, and for a few moments he stormed with Spanish fury.

"This dog of a sailor has been bought!" he cried, clenching his hands as he walked about the floor. "If the money does not arrive soon, it will be too late; my soldiers will not take our notes. Galdar has paid him to ruin me."

Kit, knowing the emotional character of the half-breeds, let him rage. Alvarez did not often lose his self-control and he had some grounds for feeling disturbed. When he stopped, Kit said quietly, "The captain is honest, but if he loses his ship with the guns and money on board, it will not help us much. If my uncle is better in the morning, I will see what he thinks; if not, I will decide about the orders to send."

When Alvarez left him he went into the town and after walking about the alameda sat down at a table in front of the cafÉ and ordered some wine. This was safer than the black coffee and scented cordials the citizens drank, but he tasted it carefully and gave himself up to anxious thought without draining his glass. The insurance on the Rio Negro did not cover all the risks Mayne would run if he left port with disabled engines, and the coast was dangerous. The loss of the ship would be a blow, but if Mayne did not leave Havana soon the freight might arrive after the president's fall. Kit, feeling his responsibility, shrank from the momentous choice, and while he pondered Olsen came up and occupied a chair opposite.

"Drinking tinto!" he remarked. "Well, I guess that's prudent. But how's the Buccaneer? He's been looking shaky and I heard he was ill."

Kit wondered how much Olsen knew. He said Adam's fever came and went and he would, no doubt, be better soon. Olsen smiled and shook his head.

"There's no use in giving me that stuff; I know the climate! Askew's going under fast and will never be fit again. I reckon the old man knows he's got to let up, if you don't. What are you going to do when he pulls out?"

"It will need some thought," Kit answered cautiously, since he had grounds for believing the other imagined he was Adam's clerk.

Olsen ordered some vermouth, and then remarked in a meaning tone: "I don't have to be careful about my drinks. There's an advantage in taking the popular side."

"Are you sure yours is the popular side?"

"Wait and see," Olsen rejoined, "though that plan's expensive, because it may be too late when you find out. My employers don't often back the wrong man and I trust their judgment now. If you'll listen, I'll show you."

Kit signed him to go on and Olsen resumed: "The Buccaneer will drop out soon and you'll be left to do the best you can for yourself. Well, I don't suppose you'll get another chance like this; we'll pay you ten thousand dollars if you can keep the Rio Negro back for a week."

"That doesn't indicate that you're sure of winning," Kit remarked dryly.
"Besides, I wouldn't trust Galdar to put up the money."

"I don't ask you to trust Galdar; my people will find the money. In a sense, it doesn't matter to us who is president, except that we want the concessions Galdar promised, and they're worth an extra two thousand pounds. We'll give you American bills for the sum if your steamer lands her cargo too late to be of use."

Kit thought hard. It looked as if Olsen knew the Rio Negro had broken down. If so, he was obviously well informed and his employers were persuaded that the probability of the president's downfall was strong enough to justify the bribe. Two thousand pounds would go some way to making Ashness a model farm, while it was plain that Adam might lose the money he had hinted he meant to leave Kit. Kit, however, did not feel tempted, although he wanted to find out something about Olsen's plans.

"You seem to take my agreement for granted," he remarked. "You must see that I could embarrass you by telling Alvarez."

Olsen laughed. "You could put him wise; but you couldn't embarrass us. The president knows whom he's up against. The trouble is he isn't strong enough to get after us."

"Well, suppose I refuse?"

"You'll be a blame fool. That's all there is to it."

Kit doubted. He knew what had happened to Adam, and, in spite of Olsen's statement, imagined Galdar's friends would not let him warn the president.

"Anyhow, you must give me until the morning. I want to think about it," he said, in order to test his suspicions.

"We can't wait; the thing must be put over now. There's no use in trying to raise my offer. You know our limit."

"Oh, well!" said Kit, "I'm afraid I'll have to let it go. There are difficulties, and if you can't wait—"

Olsen looked at him with surprise, and Kit saw he had not expected his offer to be refused. The fellow had a cynical distrust of human nature that had persuaded him Kit could not resist the temptation; his shallow cleverness sometimes misled him and had done so when he took it for granted that Kit was Adam's clerk.

"You don't mean you're going to turn my offer down?" Olsen said sharply.

"You force me. I can't decide just yet."

Olsen hesitated, knitting his brows. "Oh!" he exclaimed, "that's ridiculous! The thing will cost you nothing, and I'll come up a thousand dollars. You ought to see you must accept."

"I don't see," Kit replied as carelessly as he could, and got up. "Since you can't wait, I understand the matter's off."

He went away, and glancing back as he crossed the street, saw that Olsen's pose was curiously fixed and he seemed to be gazing straight in front. Some of the customers now left the cafÉ and Kit lost sight of him. The moon was high and clear, but the black shadows of the trees fell upon the walk through the alameda and there were not many people about. Kit would sooner not have crossed the alameda, although this was his nearest way, but thought he had better do so. Olsen might be watching, and Kit did not want the fellow to imagine he was afraid, since it would indicate that he knew the importance of his refusal. Yet he was afraid, and it cost him something of an effort to plunge into the gloom.