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  CHAPTER XII

  BAITING THE SMUGGLERS

  It was late, and the dew was heavy. Macallister's thin clothes weregetting damp as he walked impatiently up and down the mole. The_Enchantress's_ gig lay near the steps, but her crew had not arrived,although Macallister had waited half an hour for them. This by no meanspleased him, because, while not a tyrant, he expected his orders to beobeyed. Besides, he resented the ingratitude of the men. He had agreedwith Grahame that it was prudent to moor the _Enchantress_ out in theharbor and keep the crew short of money. They had behaved well, andduring the afternoon Macallister had given them a few pesetas andallowed them a run ashore, although he imagined he had kept within alimit that would ensure their sobriety.

  They had, however, not returned, and he felt disturbed as he watched thetwinkling anchor-lights and the ripples flash in the silvery track themoon cast across the water. Boats were coming and going, and when oneapproached the landing Macallister drew back into the shadow. He hadmade the acquaintance of the captain and the engineer of the vessel fromwhich the boat came, and he did not want to be found waiting for hisunpunctual crew. The footsteps of those who landed were growing faintwhen he heard singing farther up the mole. The voice was unsteady, andthe patter of bare feet that accompanied it suggestively uneven.

  Macallister knew the song, and was not surprised that his men, who wereobviously coming back the worse for liquor, should show a taste for goodmusic, for this is common among Spanish-Americans. It was, however,difficult to understand how they had made the money he had given them goso far.

  "Where kept ye, ye drunken swine?" he asked when they lurched intosight.

  "No savvy," answered his fireman, Pepe, and Macallister explained whathe thought of them in the most virulent epithets used along the Clyde.

  This relieved his feelings and satisfied his sense of discipline, but hedid not think it wise to translate his remarks: Spanish half-breeds havefiery tempers and carry knives.

  "Get into the boat before I kick ye off the mole!" he concluded when hewas breathless, and the men clumsily obeyed, though one came near tofalling into the water. They had some trouble in getting out the oars,but at last they rowed away. Macallister noted that one man placed asmall cane basket under a thwart, and he suspected what was inside.

  When they reached the _Enchantress_ he was first on deck, but he waitedby the gangway until the man who carried the basket climbed up.Macallister held out his hand for the basket, and when the fellow gaveit to him confidingly he hurried aft to examine it by the engine lamp.It contained two bottles of _anisado_, a spirit flavored with aniseed infavor in Spanish countries. He felt tempted to throw them overboard,but refrained because such waste went against the grain, and the liquormight be doled out when the men had been forced to work unusually hard.He imagined they had forgotten the matter, and was lighting his pipewhen he heard them coming, and stepped out of the engine-room to meetthem.

  "There was a small basket, senor," one said civilly, though his voicewas thick.

  "It is possible you dropped it overboard," Macallister suggested in hisbest Castilian--which was very bad.

  "No, senor. One does not drop such baskets over."

  "What was in it, then?"

  The man was obviously not sober, but it looked as if he had not lost hissenses.

  "A small present to me and the others, Don Andres. You will give it backto us."

  "No," said Macallister sternly. "Presents of that kind are not allowedon board this ship."

  He watched them while they murmured together. They were active, wiryfellows, obedient as a rule, but liable to passionate outbreaks, likemost of their mixed race. Now they looked drunkenly determined, and heknew the strength of his fireman, Pepe.

  "The basket is ours," said one. "We will take it."

  "I think not," said Macallister shortly. "Stand back!"

  Their half-respectful mood changed in a flash and they came at him witha rush. They could wrestle and use the knife, and Macallister knew thatPepe, who came first, must be stopped. He supposed that Miguel, whom hehad left on board, was asleep; but to summon help would be subversiveof authority and the affair would be over before Miguel arrived. Lungingforward, he put the weight of his body into his blow, and Pepe reeledwhen it landed on his jaw. Before he could recover, Macallister sprangupon him, and with a strenuous effort flung him backward through thegangway.

  There was a splash in the water and the others stopped, daunted by thevigor of the attack; but Pepe did not strike out for the gig asMacallister expected. Indeed, for there was shadow along the vessel'sside, he did not seem to come up, and after a moment's pause Macallisterjumped into the sea. The water closed above him, but when he rose awhite-clad figure was struggling feebly near by and he seized it. Pepeseemed unable to swim, and Macallister had some trouble in dragging himto the gig, into which the others had jumped. They pulled both men outof the water, and in another few minutes Macallister stood, dripping, onboard the _Enchantress_, sternly regarding his fireman. The shock hadapparently sobered him, and the others, with the instability of theirkind, had become suddenly docile.

  "Now," said Macallister, "where did you get the _anisado_?"

  "A gentleman gave it to us in a cafe."

  Macallister shook his head.

  "Try again! A gentleman does not give drunken sailors bottles ofliquor."

  "We were not drunk then," one of them answered naively. "And he was agentleman: he spoke Castilian like the Peninsulares."

  "Ah," said Macallister thoughtfully, for the use of good PeninsularSpanish indicates a man of education. "So he gave you all some wine andput the bottles in the basket!"

  "It was so, Don Andres," another answered with a readiness that invitedbelief.

  "But why?"

  "Who can tell?" Pepe rejoined. "Perhaps the senor was generous; then hesaid he liked sailors and tales of the sea."

  "You told him some, no doubt," Macallister remarked dryly.

  "We did, Don Andres. Herman told him of the great shark that bites offthe fishermen's oars at Punta Anagan, and I about the ghost _caravela_that beats to windward in Jaurez Strait."

  "And what else?"

  Pepe shook his head.

  "Then there was some cognac and afterward--I do not remember."

  "Get below, except the anchor-watch!" Macallister said sternly. "We'llconsider what's to be done with you to-morrow."

  They slouched away, and while Macallister was talking to Miguel a splashof oars grew louder, and presently Grahame clambered up from a shoreboat. He heard what had happened and then, sitting down, thoughtfullylighted his pipe.

  "You must see what this points to," he remarked.

  "It's no' difficult. Somebody has made the wasters drunk, and I ken whatsea stories he would start them telling. A _gran senor_, they said!"

  "One of President Altiera's spies! But why do you think he gave them the_anisado_ afterward?"

  "He might have wanted them to make trouble, so we'd put them ashore andhe could get hold o' them again. Then it's possible it would have suitedhim if they'd knifed you or me."

  "There may be something in that. Anyhow, your going overboard after Pepeended the matter well. They're not ungrateful; it gives us a hold onthem."

  "I see that noo, but I did no' stop to think before I jumped,"Macallister modestly admitted. "It was what ye might call a stroke o'natural genius. Then, ye see, I threw him in."

  Grahame laughed.

  "Well, we must keep our eyes open, and get away as soon as we can. Iexpect to finish with Don Martin to-morrow."

  * * * * *

  On the following evening Cliffe was sitting with Evelyn in his privateroom at the International when a mulatto boy brought him in a card.

  "Senor Gomez!" he remarked. "The fellow has kept me hanging round threedays, and I'd made up my mind to sail with Grahame to-morrow, whether hecame or not."

  "Who is Senor Gomez?" Evelyn asked.

  "I understand his official
title is _Secretario General_, and he's nextin power to the President of the country I'm trying to do business with.My opinion is that they're both slippery rascals."

  He broke off as the door opened and a dark-skinned gentleman came in.Gomez bowed ceremoniously to Evelyn and Cliffe, and then waited with hishat in his hand. He was dressed all in black except for his spotlesslinen. He wore a number of valuable rings, and Evelyn noticed that hisnails were unusually curved and long. She shrank from the glance of boldadmiration he gave her, but resentment and half-instinctive dislikeconquered this feeling, and she returned his greeting politely whenCliffe presented him. She thought no better of him when she withdrewafter some general talk.

  "Now," Cliffe said when Evelyn had left them, "we'll get down tobusiness. I've been waiting three days for you, and am not sure the dealis worth it."

  Gomez spread out his hands with a deprecatory air.

  "It was impossible to come sooner; affairs of state, you understand! MayI suggest that the concessions we offer you are valuable?"

  "So it seems!" Cliffe rejoined bluntly. "The price you asked was highenough, and now, when we have half fixed things, you want to raise yourterms."

  Gomez looked pained. He was rather stout and greasy, but his dress andmanners were unexceptionable.

  "Senor, that is a grief to us, but the affairs of my country necessitatethe change. We only ask for a little more money in advance. It is to theadvantage of all parties that you agree."

  "I can't see how it is to my advantage to part with money I can make agood use of," Cliffe replied.

  "I must speak frankly, senor." Gomez's manner became confidential."These concessions have already cost you something, and there aredissatisfied people who are anxious to rob the President of his power."

  "I've heard that some of them are anxious to shoot him; but that's notmy business."

  "With your pardon, senor, we must disagree. If the President losesoffice before the papers are signed, the concessions go. I imagined youunderstood this."

  "I suppose I did understand something of the kind," Cliffe admitted."Still, if the revolutionists prove too strong for you, I'll lose anyadditional money I may let you have."

  Gomez smiled, a slow and rather cruel smile.

  "If we can get the money there will be an end of the discontent; we knowhow to deal with it. And now, with apologies, I must remark that whilewe give you the first opportunity, there are others----"

  "Ah!" said Cliffe sharply. "I'd thought this business wouldn't have muchattraction for my rivals. Whom am I up against?"

  Gomez gave him a letter from a German syndicate, and Cliffe examined itclosely. He knew the principal, and recognized the signature.

  "I see; they're bolder than I thought," he said. "If I don't come up tothe line, you'll make the deal with them."

  "We should be forced. The political situation demands it."

  "You mean you must have the money. Well, you have got a good deal ofmine already. What becomes of it if the thing falls through?"

  "It was a gift," Gomez answered with an apologetic smile. "Yourgenerosity will be gratefully remembered."

  Cliffe was silent for a few minutes. He had not been tricked, because hehad known that when one negotiates a transaction of that sort with aSpanish-American country, a certain amount of money must first be spentin clearing the ground, and this, going into the pockets of venalofficials, offers no direct return. Gomez and his master had, however,been smarter than Cliffe thought, for, after exacting all they couldfrom him, they had opened negotiations with another party, and wouldforce him to come up to his rival's bid. They could do so, because if hedrew back he would lose the money he had already put in. He distrustedthem, but he thought he would be safe when he secured the concessions.

  "I guess I'll have to meet you," he said, "but we'll get everythingfixed up now."

  Half an hour afterward he lighted a fresh cigar, and put some papersinto his pocket. He was not altogether satisfied, and neither was Gomez,but they had by mutual compromise arrived at a workable arrangement andeach had some respect for the other's astuteness.

  "How will you get across to Jamaica?" Gomez asked.

  "A little boat sails in the morning."

  "The very small, lead-colored steamer? The senorita may find theaccommodation rude. Why not wait for a passenger boat?"

  "It's fine weather, and the man who owns her is a friend of mine."

  Gomez was puzzled. He was suspicious of the _Enchantress_, and had takentrouble to find out something about her. It surprised him to learn thather owner and Cliffe were friends.

  "Then he is in Havana?"

  "He's in this hotel. I noticed him sitting, half asleep, in the farcorner of the lounge just before you came in. Do you want to see him?"

  "Oh, no," Gomez said in a careless tone, for he feared he had beenincautious. "I imagined you meant he was somebody you knew in America."

  He made an excuse for leaving, but Cliffe, noticing his interest, wasnot satisfied, and went out to the landing with him. Gomez, however, didnot go straight to the lounge. He was afraid of rousing Cliffe'scuriosity, and men of his stamp are seldom direct in their methods. Itseemed wiser to spend a while sauntering about the _patio_, where Cliffecould see him. But Grahame in the meantime came up the stairs, andCliffe beckoned him.

  "Do you know Senor Gomez?" he asked.

  "No," said Grahame, immediately on his guard. "I've heard about him.Clever politician, but a bit of a rogue, I believe."

  Cliffe gave him a keen glance.

  "I thought he was interested in you, but I may have been mistaken.Anyway, I told him you were taking a _siesta_ in a corner of thelounge."

  Grahame smiled carelessly.

  "Inquisitiveness becomes a habit with fellows like Gomez, and I dare sayit's needful. The cafes in these ports are full of political refugeesand intriguers."

  Seeing Macallister in the hall below, Grahame went down to him and toldhim what he had learned.

  "Weel," said the engineer, dryly, "after that present o' _anisado_ tothe men, I'm thinking it would no' be desirable that ye should meetSenor Gomez. For a' that, I would not have him disappointed, and I'lldaunder along to the lounge."

  "It would be almost as bad if he saw you."

  Macallister chuckled.

  "He'll have hard work to recognize me afterward. Come away to thehat-rack."

  Grahame followed him, feeling puzzled but suspecting that his comradehad some ingenious plan. Seeing nobody about, Macallister borrowed oneor two articles from the rack; but neither he nor Grahame noticed thatMiss Cliffe watched the proceedings with interest from a shadowypassage.

  Shortly afterward, Gomez entered the lounge and saw only one personthere, but this individual's appearance surprised him. As the light wasnot good, he strolled toward the drowsy gentleman who lay negligently ina big chair with a newspaper dangling from his hand. He wore a soft hat,pulled down upon his forehead as if to shade his eyes, and a loose darkcloak hung over his shoulder. He looked like a Cuban and although Gomeznoticed that his nails were short and broken, this might be accountedfor by his having something to do with sugar-making machinery.

  "Perhaps you are not using the _diario_?" Gomez said.

  The man did not look up, but held out the paper with a drowsy grunt.

  Gomez was too clever to make a poor excuse for starting a conversationwith a man who obviously did not wish to be disturbed, and, taking thepaper, he moved away. After a few minutes he put it down and strolledout of the room. When he had gone, Macallister left by another door,and, replacing the things he had borrowed, rejoined Grahame in the_patio_.

  "It worked," he said, chuckling. "If Senor Gomez was on our track, he'sweel off it noo. But it's fortunate we sail the morn."

  "He mustn't meet Don Martin," Grahame answered thoughtfully. "I'll go tohis room and warn him."

  He found that Sarmiento was out, and none of the hotel servants knewwhere he had gone. Grahame felt disturbed by this; but there was nothinghe could
do.