The man laughed. “Well,” he said reflectively, “there may have been another reason. It is known to a few that Don Bernardino is a friend of liberty.” Appleby was a trifle astonished, but not sufficiently to show it, since he had already had vague suspicions. “It is,” he said, “a thing one does not admit in Santa Marta, but if one might reward a kindness with money I have a few dollars.” “It is not permissible, señor—not from a comrade,” and the man straightened himself a trifle. “Still, one might be grateful for a little bottle.” Appleby laughed, though he was not quite at ease, and entering the hotel came back with two bottles of somewhat costly wine, which he thrust upon the man. “If I can be of service I think you know where I am to be found,” he said. Again the curious little smile showed in the man’s face, but he took off his hat and turned away; while ten minutes later Appleby rode out of Santa Marta somewhat troubled in mind. It was tolerably plain to him that Harding’s affairs were being watched with interest by the Administration or somebody who desired to gain a hold on him, and that his own connection with the Sin Verguenza was at least suspected by the peons who had befriended him. That being so, it appeared likely that others were aware of it too. XIV — APPLEBY PROVES OBDURATE THE hot day was over, and the light failing rapidly when Appleby, who had just finished comida, sat by a window of the hacienda San Cristoval with an English newspaper upon his knee. The room behind him, where Harper lay in a cane chair, was already shadowy, but outside the saffron sunset still flamed beyond the cane, and here and there a palm tuft cut against it hard and sharp in ebony tracery. Inside the air was hot, and heavy with the smell of garlic‐tainted oil; but a faint cool draught flowed in between the open lattices, and Appleby, who had been busy since sunrise that day, sighed contentedly as he breathed it in. Beneath him the long white sheds still glimmered faintly, and a troop of men were plodding home along the little tram‐line that wound through the cane; while in the direction they came from the smoke of the crushing‐ mill floated, a long, dingy smear, athwart the soft blueness, out of which here and there a pale star was peeping.