“There is a strong bolt inside,” he said in a curiously even voice. “I do not know of any other place in Santa Marta where you would be as safe to‐night.” Nettie turned with a little shiver, and looked down into the patio. There were lights behind most of the lattices, and she could hear loud laughter and the clink of glasses, while here and there ragged figures with rifles showed up on the veranda. Then she straightened herself with an effort and looked steadily at Appleby. He stood wearily before her, very ragged, and very disreputable as far as appearance went, but he did not avoid her gaze. “Where am I?” she asked, with a faint tremor in her voice. “I believe this was the Alcalde’s house. It is occupied by the Insurgent leaders now.” “Then,” said the girl, with a little gasp, “why did you bring me here?” “I can escort you back to the plaza if you wish it,” said Appleby quietly. “Still, you would be running serious risks, and I believe I can answer for your security here. You see, I am an officer of the Sin Verguenza.” Nettie gasped again, and once more shot a swift glance at him. Appleby was standing very still, and save for the weariness in it his face was expressionless. Then without a word she turned and went into the room, while Harper smiled softly when he heard the bolt shot home. The room, she found, was evidently a sleeping chamber, for there was a cheap iron bedstead in it, and articles of male attire were scattered about the floor. From the quantity of them, and the manner in which they were lying, it also appeared that somebody had been endeavoring to ascertain which would fit him. Then Nettie, remembering the rags the man wore, sat down somewhat limply with burning cheeks in the single chair, until a little burst of meaningless laughter that was tinged with hysteria shook her. In the meanwhile Appleby dropped into a cane chair further along the veranda and laid his rifle across his knees. “My head’s aching, and I can’t see quite straight,” he said. “See if you can get me a little wine somewhere, Harper. Then you had better go along and find out what those rascals of mine are after, and if anybody has seen Harding.” Harper shook his head. “I guess I’ve had ’bout enough of them for one night, and if any indignant citizen slips a knife into one of them it’s not going to be a great loss to anybody,” he said. “You know who that girl is?” “Miss Nettie Harding. I met her on the ‘Aurania’ coming out.” Harper smiled. “Well,” he said reflectively, “it’s not every day one of the Sin Verguenza is honored with the custody of a young woman who lives in one of the smartest houses on the Hudson. It strikes me there’s money in the thing, and I’m going to stop right here, and be handy when Sugar Harding comes along, though I don’t know that he’d think much of me as a chaperon in this outfit.”