"No, but I'm going to be. You talk about YOUR troubles; now listen to mine. I'll make you weep like a fog." Briefly he told his friend of the blow that had so suddenly fallen upon him.

"You ARE up against it, old man," agreed Runnels, when he had heard all. "Garavel has set his heart on the Presidency, and he'll pay any price to get it. It's the same all over Central America; these people are mad on politics. There are never more than two parties, you know--the Wanters and the Hasers. The Wanters are out and the Hasers are in; that's what makes these wicked little revolutions at every change of the moon--it isn't a question of policy at all. Now, if Miss Gertrudis were an American girl, she might rebel, elope, do something like that, but she's been reared with the Spanish notions of obedience, and I dare say she will submit tamely because she doesn't know how to put up a fight.

That's an admirable characteristic in a wife, but not very helpful in a sweetheart."

"Well, she's half American," said Kirk.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean the game isn't over. I carried the ball forty yards once for a touchdown in the last ten seconds of play, and Yale won. I had good 'interference' then, and I need it now. Somebody'll have to run ahead of me."

Runnels smiled. "I guess you can count on me. What is the plan?"

For the next half-hour the two talked earnestly, their heads together, their voices low.

"I don't believe it will work, my boy," Runnels said at last. "I know these people better than you, and yet--Lord! if it does come off!" He whistled softly. "Well, they may kick the political props out from under us, but there will be an awful crash when we hit.

Now, don't mention this rumor about Blakeley. I want to see Steve Cortlandt first."

"Cortlandt! By-the-way, do you happen to remember that he's to be our guest for supper to-morrow night? Kind of a joke now, trying to thank him for what he's done, isn't it?"

"Not at all. It may be our one chance of salvation; he may be the one person who can help us."

"Well," Kirk reflected, "I have a good deal to thank him for, I suppose, outside of this, and I'll go through with my part."

He proceeded at once to put his plan into execution, his first step being to rent a room at the Tivoli, taking particular care to select one on the first floor in the north wing. That evening he and Allan moved. It was a simple process, yet he felt that he was engaged in the most momentous act of his Hie. As to its outcome much depended upon Runnels and much more upon himself--so much, in fact, that when he came to look at the matter coldly he confessed the hope of success was slender. But such as it was he clung to it desperately.

Runnels telephoned during the evening that he had been equal to his part of the task, so there remained nothing to do but wait for the hour of the dance.

Over and over Anthony asked himself if he were not foolish to pin his faith to so slight a chance, but he could find no answer. He slept little amid his new surroundings that night, and awoke Sat.u.r.day morning thrilled with the certainty that his life's crisis was but a few hours away.

It was considerably after dark on Sat.u.r.day evening that John Weeks, American Consul at Colon, received a caller who came to him direct from the Royal Mail steamer just docked. At first sight the stranger did not impress Mr. Weeks as a man of particular importance. His face was insignificant, and his pale-blue eyes showed little force. His only noticeable feature was displayed when he removed his hat. Then it could be seen that a wide, white scar ran from just over his temple to a point back of his right ear.

He made his name known as Williams, which, of course, meant nothing to the consul, and while drinking one of Weeks' high- b.a.l.l.s, inquired idly about the country, the climate, and the people, as if in no hurry to come to his point. Weeks watched him shrewdly, convinced at last by his visitor's excessive caution that his first judgment had been wrong, and that the man was more knowing than he seemed. Mr. Williams was likewise studying the fat man, and when he had satisfied himself, came out openly with these words:

"I'm looking for a chap named Wellar. He landed here some time late in November."

"Friend of yours?"

"Um--m--not exactly." Mr. Williams ran a hand meditatively over the ragged scar on his scalp, as if from force of habit.

"Wellar? I never heard of him."

"He may have travelled under another name. Ever hear of a fellow called Locke?"

The consul's moist lips drew together, his red eyes gleamed watchfully. "Maybe I have, and maybe I haven't," said he. "Why do you want him?"

"I heard he was here. I'd enjoy meeting him again."

"What does he look like?"

Mr. Williams rattled off a description of Kirk Anthony so photographic that the consul suddenly saw a great light.

"Yes, I know him all right," he confessed, warmly. "He's a good friend of mine, too; in fact, he lived with me for a while."

Misconstruing the eager expression that came to his caller's face, he rose heavily and thrust out a thick, wet hand. "Don't let's beat about the bush, Mr. Anthony; your son is safe and well and making a name for himself. I'm happy to say I helped him--not much, to be sure, but all I could--yes, sir, I acknowledge the corn--and I'm glad to meet you at last. I have been waiting for you to arrive, and I'm glad you dropped in on me. I have a lot of things to talk about."

But the other stared upward impatiently. "No, no! You've got me wrong. I'm a detective, and I'm after your friend Wellar, alias Locke, alias Anthony. He's wanted for embezzlement and a.s.sault and a few other things, and I'm going to take him." The indistinctive Mr. Williams spoke sharply, and his pale blue eyes were suddenly hard and bright.

Weeks stared open-mouthed for an instant. "Then you're really not Darwin K. Anthony?" he gasped.

"Certainly not. Here's the warrant. I'm sorry this chap is your pal, but--"

"My pal! h.e.l.l, I hate him like the smallpox. Good thing you spoke or I'd have sold you a cocoanut grove. I KNEW he was wrong.

Embezzler, eh? Well, well!"

"Eighty thousand, that's all, and he's got it on him."

"You're wrong there; he was broke when he landed. I ought to know."

"Oh no! He came down on the Santa Cruz; I've seen the purser. He travelled under the name of Jefferson Locke. There's no mistake, and he couldn't have blown it all. No, it's sewed into his shirt, and I'm here to grab it."

Weeks whistled in amazement. "He IS a shrewd one. Eighty thou-- Lord, I wish I'd known that! He's here, all right, working for the railroad and living at Panama. He's made good, too, and got some influential friends. Oh, this is great!"

"Working, hey? Clever stall! Do you see that?" Williams inclined his head for a fuller display of the disfiguration over his ear.

"He hung that on me, with a bottle. I d.a.m.n near died." He laughed disagreeably. "He'll go back, and he'll go back quick. How do I get to Panama?"

Weeks consulted his watch hastily.

"You've missed the last train; but we'll go over together in the morning. I want to have a hand in this arrest for reasons of my own; I don't like him or his influential friends." He began to chuckle ponderously. "No, I don't like his influential friends, in particular."

While this scene was being enacted on the north side of the Isthmus, Kirk Anthony, over at the Tivoli Hotel, was making himself ready for the ball with particular pains. Even his personal appearance might have a bearing upon the outcome of this adventure, and he dared not overlook the slightest advantage.

Allan regarded him admiringly from many angles.

"Oh, Master h'Auntony," he exclaimed, rapturously, "you are beautiful!"

"Thanks! Again thanks! Now, can you remember to do as I have told you?"

"I would die--"

"DON'T say that again, I'm too nervous. Here are your instructions, once more. Keep both doors to this room locked and stand by the one to the veranda! Don't let any one in except Mr.

Runnels and the man he'll bring. DON'T--LEAVE--THIS--SPOT, no matter what happens. Does that penetrate your teakwood dome? Does your ivory cue-ball encompa.s.s that thought?"

"I shall watch this h'apartment carefully, never fear."

"But I do fear. I'm scared to death. My hands are go cold they are brittle. Remember, when I knock, so, let me in instantly, and keep your wits about you."

"H'Allan never fails, sar. But what is coming to pahss?"

"Never mind what is coming to pa.s.s. This is going to be a big night, my boy--a very big night." Kirk strolled out into the hall and made his way to the lobby.