"Captain Nocolo," was the prompt reply. The guard did not dare to hesitate, for fear of death. "Captain Nocolo. Where does he come from?" "Santiago, señor." "Do you know anything concerning him--his former business?" "He was in the land business, señor--he bought and sold plantations." "Who was in business with him?" "One or two of the Mazenas family were with him." "Ah! as I thought!" murmured the young war correspondent. "One of the very chaps who cheated my uncle Robert out of his fortune. What strange fate has brought us together!" "You know him, señor?" questioned the guard. "I know of him," returned Howard, bitterly. "Where is he now?" "He went off with the young lady, and has not yet returned." Howard started. Captain Nocolo had gone off with Estella? What could it mean? "Where did they go?" "Down toward the bay, señor." "What was done with my papers?" went on the young war correspondent. The man hesitated before replying. "They were burned----" he began, when Howard thrust the gun muzzle into his face. "Dios, señor, don't shoot me!" he yelled. "I will give up all." And, without delay, he produced not only the precious letters, but also Howard's pistol and several other articles, which the young war correspondent quickly stored about his person. Howard was about to bind and gag the man, when the tramp of horses' hoofs rang out close behind them, and two men rode up, one close behind the other, as if to support him. "Hold! what means this?" cried the leader of the pair, as he drew rein. "It's lucky we came up by the back way, Captain Nocolo. Here is a prisoner escaping." "The American spy!" burst from Captain Nocolo's lips, as he raised his bruised head. "Shoot him, Lieutenant Mazenas!" "And who is he!" questioned Lieutenant Mazenas, as he gazed fixedly at the young war correspondent. "Howard Sherwood--the heir of Robert Sherwood!" whispered Nocolo. "Diablo!" growled Lieutenant Mazenas, hoarsely. "He is far better dead than alive!" With drawn sabre he urged forward his horse, intending to strike Howard dead at his feet. But the young war correspondent was too nimble for him. He leaped to one side, and aimed his gun. "Back, if you value your life!" he said, warningly. Lieutenant Mazenas paid no heed, but charged forward again. The hammer of the gun fell with a sharp click, but the gun, an old piece, failed to go off. "Ha! we have you now!" hissed the lieutenant. "Throw him down!" he shouted to the guard, and leaped from his horse, intending to make Howard a prisoner again. Finding the gun useless, the young war correspondent turned to flee. But the quarrel, brief as it was, had aroused those around the cane-house, and the soldiers quickly surrounded him. With a vigorous blow, Howard stretched one man senseless, and then a dozen pounced upon him, and he was borne to the ground, and kicked and beaten until unconscious.