“But how do you expect me to help you?”

“I want your advice more than your help, although you might tell me where I can find Colonel Lopez.”

Enriquez eyed his caller keenly.  “That information would be very well worth having,” said he.  “But, you understand, we know little about what is going on in Cuba—­far less than the Spaniards themselves.  I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

“You don’t take me for a spy, do you?” Johnnie asked, with his friendly grin.

“Ah!  You don’t look like one, but we never know whom to trust.  This young lady in whom you are interested, who is she?”

“Her name is Varona; Miss Rosa Varona.”

“So?” Enriquez raised his brows.  “Not by any chance the heiress to that famous Varona treasure?”

“Exactly!—­if there is such a thing.”  There ensued a pause while the Cuban drummed softly upon his desk with his finger-tips.  “Her brother Esteban told me that he was working for your cause.  I warned him to be careful, but—­” O’Reilly’s voice grew suddenly husky.  “Here!  Read this.  I want you to believe me.”  Reverently he laid Rosa’s letter before her countryman.  “I’m not in the habit of showing my letters to strangers, but—­I guess that’ll convince you I’m not a spy.”

He sat silently while the letter was being read; nor was he disappointed in the result.  Mr. Enriquez raised dark, compassionate eyes to his, saying: 

“This is a touching letter, sir.  I thank you for allowing me to see it.  No, I don’t doubt you now.  Poor Cuba!  Her sons must be brave, her daughters patient.”

“Well!  You understand why I must go quickly, and why I can’t chance delay by going either to Matanzas or to Havana.  I want to land somewhere farther east, and I want you to help me to find Colonel Lopez.”

Mr. Enriquez frowned thoughtfully.  “What I just told you is literally true,” he said at last.  “We work in the dark up here, and we don’t know the whereabouts of our troops.  We are suspicious of strangers, too, as we have reason to be.  But—­I have a thought.”  He excused himself and left the room.  When he returned he explained:  “I don’t have to tell you that we are watched all the time, and that for us to assist you openly would be liable to defeat your purpose.  But I have just telephoned to a man I can trust, and I have told him your story.  He has relatives in Cuba and he agrees to help you if he can.  His name is Alvarado.”  Writing an address upon a card, he handed it to O’Reilly.  “Go to him, tell him what you have told me, and do as he directs.  Another thing, don’t return here unless it is necessary; otherwise when you land in Cuba you may have cause to regret it.”  Mr. Enriquez extended his hand, and when O’Reilly tried to thank him he shook his head.  “It is nothing.  I wish you success, but—­I fear you have tackled a big proposition.”

Dr. Alvarado, a high type of the Cuban professional man, was expecting O’Reilly.  He listened patiently to his caller’s somewhat breathless recital.