“So your precious conscience hurts you, does it?” the vice-consul was saying. “It’s not a question of that,” Lazar’s voice answered, “and you know it, Juarez. But smuggling is too risky. I had a narrow escape from detection in New York a year ago, getting your goods ashore, and I don’t wish to go through that worry again.” “You made a handsome sum out of it, didn’t you?” Juarez’s voice questioned. “Not so loud,” Lazar cautioned, “it’s too dangerous; if this were known, I’d lose my commission.” “You are losing your nerve, Lazar,” the vice-consul’s voice sneered; “there is no one about.” “You can’t tell, and anyway, this is not the place to discuss such matters,” Lazar said decidedly. “As you please, but, by the way, I might as well tell you; I know you dare not betray me,” the vice-consul’s voice said menacingly, “and I need your help.” The speakers changed their positions slightly and their voices failed to carry distinctly to the eager eavesdropper. Phil trembled with expectancy at the startling intelligence he had received. So Lazar had been tempted to do something for which his commission would be forfeited if found out. What a terrible weapon to hold over his enemy if he continued his persecution. What was the secret Juarez had confided to Lazar? The arms surely. The voices had now died out entirely, and a shuffling of feet on deck told Phil that the minister was ready to leave the ship. He told Sydney all he had heard as soon as they had returned to their room after the departure of the American minister. “I am not surprised,” exclaimed Sydney, when Phil had finished his story. “Lazar is capable of anything evil. We have another person to reckon with, however, in this arms smuggling. If he suspects we are attempting to intercept them, Lazar will, in hatred of you, try to defeat your plan.” “Hadn’t we better confide in Captain Taylor?” questioned Phil. “We can thus cut Lazar’s claws.” “We should not do that until we can prove our story fully,” answered Sydney. “The captain might believe our accusations were true, but he could hardly act officially upon them.” “It seems hard that such a scoundrel should wear an officer’s uniform,” protested the lad, “but I dare say you are right, Syd. We must seek for more convincing evidence.” “What is your plan for to-night?” asked Sydney, as he took his revolvers out of their case and examined them critically. “I have decided to keep a watch during the day, and if no vessel large enough to carry the boxes leaves port before dark, then to lie in wait in the ‘Vidette’ at the entrance of the harbor, and overhaul any suspicious craft that comes out of port.”