Then he shrugged his shoulders, and turned to the banker’s wife with a smile; but Appleby had noticed the vindictiveness in his tone, and as he surmised it was not accounted for by the fact that the man had broken into Harding’s office, wondered whether it was because he had failed to accomplish his purpose. He, however, felt that Nettie Harding desired him to outstay the colonel, and was content with the little grateful glance she cast at him when Morales went away. Ten minutes later Appleby also rose, but the banker detained him a minute or two. “You have a consignment of sugar to be shipped,” he said “Some one will go down to the port. Yourself, I think?” “Yes,” said Appleby. “Then it would be a kindness if you would hand this letter to the captain to post in America,” he said. “It is of some importance to the Señor Harding and others.” “With pleasure, but why not post it here?” The banker laid his hand on Appleby’s shoulder, and shook his head significantly. “One does not trust anything of importance to the post just now,” he said. “This is an affair in which the greatest discretion is necessary. When one puts anything he does not wish the administration to know in a letter he burns the blotting paper.” Appleby was not altogether astonished, but he took the packet the banker handed him; and when they shook hands the latter once more glanced at him warningly. “The discretion!” he said. “You will remember—the discretion.” XIII — THE SECOND ATTEMPT IT was at a brisk walk Appleby left the banker’s house, but he stopped a few minutes later where several streets branched off from a little plaza. He had some trifling business with a tobacco merchant who lived in one of them, but he decided after a moment’s reflection that it was scarcely likely he would find the man, who probably spent the evenings at a café, at home just then. Appleby had, however, stopped somewhat suddenly, and noticed that the footsteps he had heard behind him also ceased a second or two later. This, he surmised, had in all probability no special significance; but he raised his hand to an inner pocket where the letter the banker had given him lay. It was evidently of some importance, and he remembered that it was not money the man he had surprised at the hacienda was in search of. As it happened he carried another letter, which he meant to ask somebody at the “Four Nations” to post. It was of very little consequence, and contained only a list of American tools and machinery which Harding dealt in, and Appleby smiled as he slipped it into the lower pocket of his jacket. Then he took out his cigar‐case and slowly lighted a cigar, so that anybody who might be watching him should find a motive for his delay. He looked about him cautiously as he did so.