some solution.  Were they really addressed to him, or had he stolen them?  If the latter, then how had he succeeded in getting his picture on the same plate with Judge Henley’s?  And what were those other more important documents on which he rested his claim?  These considerations flashed through my mind, yet I was sufficiently aroused to answer quickly, aware that even the slightest hesitancy might awaken suspicion.

“It would seem to be unanswerable,” I replied, replacing letters and photograph on the desk.  “What hurts my pride is to have been made such a fool of.”

“That’s nothing, Craig; we have all had that experience.  You merely fell into the clutches of some shrewd men, and a designing woman.  Fortunately you have discovered the truth before any great harm has been done, and I stand ready to give you a chance now on the winning side.  I would rather have you with me than opposed, and there will be more money in it for us both.  What do you say?”

“I should prefer to know more about your proposition.”

“It has nothing whatever to do with the Henley matter,” he exclaimed, leaning back in his chair, and surveying me shrewdly through his dark eyes.  “That is practically settled already, so you will not be further involved with the girl.”

“You would oblige me by leaving her name out of the discussion then,” I interposed coldly.  “Even her presence on board is distasteful under the circumstances.”

He chuckled, well satisfied with his diplomacy.

“I understand that; however, we cannot obliterate her entirely.  Pretty enough to be useful too, I imagine, if she can ever be brought to view this affair from the right angle.  Could n’t you be induced to attempt a little, missionary work?  Love-making at sea is said to be especially pleasant.”

I shook my head, gazing directly into his eyes, barely able to keep from throttling him.

“Drop it,” I said sternly.  “The girl is to be left alone if I have any part in your scheme.  Now I want to know what is expected of me; may I ask questions?”

He lit another cigarette, calmly indifferent to all outward appearance.

“Certainly—­fire away.”

“Where are we bound?”

“Spanish Honduras,” lazily, but spreading out a map, and tapping it with his finger.  “Perto Cortez, if we can make that port safely; if not then somewhere along the coast between there and Trupillo.  There will be signals.”

I leaned forward, startled out of my self-restraint.  “Honduras!  Good Lord! what are you—­a filibuster?”

“Hardly,” with a short laugh.  “That is too dangerous a job, and not money enough in it.  I prefer to do my revoluting through others, and cop the swag.  That is the safe end of the game.  It happens to be Honduras just now; I have been equally interested in other downtrodden countries.  In truth, friend, I am a patriot for revenue only.”