Alvarez bowed to Kit.  “You have a good model, senor; a man who seldom hesitates and whose word goes.  A rare thing in this country; I do not know about yours.”  Then he turned to Adam with a hint of anxiety.  “How far do you see now?”

“I see what I have to do and that is enough.  The consequences come afterwards.”

Alvarez’s face cleared.  “You were always a gambler, but you run some risk if you bet on me.”  He was silent for a moment and then resumed:  “In a sense, I envy you; you have a partner you can trust, but I stand alone.  My son was found in the plaza with a knife in his back, and the man who killed him goes unpunished.”

“Galdar was somewhere behind that deed, although I do not see his object yet,” Adam remarked.

“The people liked Maccario and his removal cleared the ground.  My enemy is cunning and, I think, did not mean to force a conflict until my friends had gone.  Now there are not many left and the time has come.  Morales died of poison, Diaz of snake-bite, and Vinoles was shot by a curious accident.  So far, I have escaped; perhaps because I was lucky, and perhaps because it was not certain the people would choose Galdar if I followed my friends.”

“I have wondered why you hold on.  For a president of this country, you have had a good run.  I think I would have left after a few prosperous years and located at Havana, for example.”

Alvarez smiled.  “There was a time when we had money in the treasury and I might have gone; but it was too late afterwards.  Part of the revenue stopped in Galdar’s hands—­that was one way of embarrassing me—­and I was forced to use the rest to undermine his plots.  Now I am drawing on my small private estate.”

“But why didn’t you go while there was something left?  You are not extravagant and do not need much.”

Kit thought Adam’s remark was justified.  Alvarez lived with Indian frugality and looked ascetic; besides he had been long in power and had no doubt had opportunities for enriching himself at his country’s expense.  Kit liked Alvarez, but did not think him much honester than other Spanish-American rulers he had met.

“It was partly for my daughter’s sake I remained,” Alvarez replied.  “She is at a Spanish convent and I would not leave her poor.  Then I had my son’s death to avenge.”  He paused and added with a deprecatory smile:  “Moreover I have thought I can rule this country better than my rival.”

“That’s a sure thing,” Adam agreed, in English.  “Well, you had better tell me how you think matters are going.  If I’m to help you properly I want to know.”

Alvarez looked about.  All was very quiet; there was nobody in the patio, and it was some distance to the nearest window in the wall that faced the pillars.  For all that, he lowered his voice and answered in hesitating English with an American accent.

“It is hard to tell; a gamble in which one takes steep chances!  Perhaps half the people with an object are for Galdar, and half for me.  Those who have none will wait and back the man they think will win.  So far, I have the soldiers, but their pay is behind and they are badly armed and drilled.  They will stand by me if I can give them machine-guns and pay off arrears.  But this must be done soon, without Galdar knowing.  The next president will be the man who strikes before the other is ready.”