“The trouble is that Violet was never in love with—me,” he said very slowly. “I have a gift for deceiving people, even when I don’t mean to, and it was not until the truth came out she saw me as I am. It is difficult to admit it, but there the fact is. She gave her heart to the man she supposed me to be, but I loved her for herself, and because I know she is the one woman who could make an honorable man of me. I lose my last hope if I let her go.” He stopped a moment with a little groan, while Appleby regarded him compassionately, and then continued in a low strained voice. “Now you see the selfishness of it, and why I mean to stay. I must prove I’m not wholly worthless by making amends to you.” Appleby stood silent a moment. He knew Tony’s unstable nature well, and that his passion for Violet Wayne, which was almost reverential, might yet lift him to a higher level. It was also evident that in desiring to make amends Tony was wise, and Appleby felt a curious sympathy for the man who clung so desperately to his last hope of vindicating himself in her eyes. That Tony’s motive was, as he had admitted, largely selfish, and his contrition by no means of the highest order, did not trouble him. It was his part to help and not censure him, and with a little swift movement he laid his hand upon his shoulder. “Well,” he said quietly, “you may be right, and since nothing else will content you, you must stay.” Just then Harding, attired in white duck and a big Panama hat, came out into the veranda, and glanced at them. “If you are coming with me, Mr. Palliser, you have no time to lose,” he said. “You may, however, find my company dangerous, especially if we can’t get into Santa Marta and reach the banker’s house while it’s dark.” Tony smiled. “I’m not coming, sir.” “Well,” said Harding, glancing at him curiously, “I guess you know your own affairs best. Maccario sent that fellow word to be ready to smuggle me in, Appleby.” “He will be waiting, and you are not likely to have much difficulty with the patrols when you are inside the town. Still, it is a big risk, sir.” Harding laughed. “I have been taking steep chances all my life, and I have quite a few dollars scattered up and down this country which I can’t afford to throw away. They’re not exactly mine, since it seems to me that I’m holding them in trust for my daughter Nettie. Now, I guess I’ve kept those men of yours long enough already.” He shook hands with Tony, and the men below flung up their rifles to the slope when he and Appleby went down the stairway. Maccario walked down the tram‐line with them, and then stopped a moment when they reached the road, where Harding laid his hand on Appleby’s arm. “I leave you in charge of San Cristoval and my affairs here with every confidence,” he said. “I shall endeavor to deserve it, sir,” said Appleby. “Still, it is not quite out of the question that Morales may burn the hacienda.”