“Oh, Elsie!” exclaimed Inza; “I know how keenly you must feel the sacrifice! You had planned something entirely different, and now——” “And now I am ready to put my plans and hopes aside for a time. Bart knows how much he owes to Frank, and he is anxious to stand by him. If I were to ask it, he would not go back to Mexico; but I have urged him to do so.” “Just like you, Elsie!” declared Inza. “Frank may not start for some time yet. He will have considerable work in New York with the capitalists who are going to push that railroad through. You know he has a number of maps and plans of the country through which the railroad will pass. True, a survey has been made, but Frank knows that country better than the engineers who made the survey. This he has demonstrated to the capitalists, and there’s to be a meeting in New York some time next week. It’s impossible to say how soon after that meeting he will be obliged to leave for Mexico.” “Don’t you fear to have him go down there into that wild country, Inza?” “No, I don’t fear,” was the immediate answer. “I have absolute confidence in Frank.” “But the Mexicans are so treacherous. They often strike at an enemy’s back.” “That’s true of a certain class of Mexicans, Elsie. There are several classes of people in Mexico, you know. For instance, there are the native Indians, then the Creoles of Spanish descent or Mexican birth. Then there are the Spaniards born in Europe, and, finally, the half-breeds, or cross between the Mexicans and Indians. These half-breeds are the treacherous ones, Elsie. They are called Mestizos. They are the enemies to be watched and avoided.” “Do you believe, Inza, that they are really the most dangerous? Are they not in many cases the tools of others with more brains? Now you know there’s a person on board this yacht who can’t be a Mestizo, yet I am afraid of him. He is a Mexican, for he has said so.” Inza laughed a little. “You mean Señor Porfias del Norte. He’s a friend of Mr. Crossgrove.” “I don’t care,” said Elsie. “I don’t like him. I’m afraid of him. I’m afraid of his smooth and snaky ways. I am afraid of his smile and his restless eyes.” “I am sure he is a fine-looking fellow in a way.” “In a way, perhaps,” admitted Elsie. “Some might call him fine-looking, and I have no doubt he considers himself very handsome.” “Yes, I think he does,” nodded Inza. “He has a way of rolling his eyes at one, and then that smile which shows his perfect teeth—I am sure he practices it before the mirror.” “It’s very strange, but I can’t bear to have him near me.” “It’s very strange, but somehow I have taken a great interest in him. I fancy he has some underlying purpose in life, and I wonder what it is. I am consumed by a desire to read his secret and sound the depths of him.” “Well, you may spend your time reading him as much as you like,” said Elsie; “but excuse me! When he comes around I vanish.” “He’s a fine singer, and he plays beautifully on both the guitar and mandolin.”