“Good-by, old man,” said the managing editor, gripping the outstretched hand with a fervor he rarely displayed. “Good-by, and good-luck to you! You’ll need all the luck you can command; for this is by far the most dangerous job you’ve ever tackled. By the way, let me give you a little tip that may prove valuable. If you should happen to get into trouble, and have to appeal to the American minister to save you, you’d better not let him know, if you can help it, that you are a member of the _Sentinel_ staff.” “Why not? I should think----” “Minister Throgmorton doesn’t like the _Sentinel_,” Paxton interrupted dryly. “He has good reason for his prejudice. We have been roasting him editorially ever since he was appointed. So, under the circumstances, I scarcely think he would move heaven and earth to help a _Sentinel_ man.” CHAPTER IV. SEÑORA FELIX. The Andean line steamship _Colombia_ was about to weigh anchor when the Camera Chap came aboard. He was not the only passenger who narrowly missed being left behind. As his taxicab drew up at the wharf two women were just alighting from an electric brougham. One of them was a blonde, and the other a pronounced brunette. Hawley gave a start of surprise at sight of them. “Bon voyage, dear,” the blond woman was saying. “I trust that everything will come out all right, and that you will soon be back in Washington. After all, your father’s condition may not be as serious as the telegram makes out. You know how doctors sometimes exaggerate.” The dark woman smiled faintly. “I pray that it may be so,” she said; “but I am greatly worried. They would not have sent for me unless it was very serious. Au revoir, and thank you a thousand times for all your kindnesses.” “All aboard, ladies!” the officer at the gangplank cried. “Please hurry.” The women embraced, and the blonde, whom Hawley had recognized as the wife of the United States attorney general, reëntered the brougham. The other hurried up the gangplank, the Camera Chap following close behind her. “Señora Felix!” he said to himself. “I didn’t expect to have her for a fellow passenger. Lucky, I guess, that I decided to take this boat.” On board the señora was greeted by a younger woman, whom she addressed as Celeste, and who, Hawley learned later, was her maid. They went immediately to her stateroom. Hawley soon learned that Señora Felix’s departure from the United States was no secret. He had brought an evening newspaper on board, and on an inside page he came across the following heading, so inconspicuously displayed that it had first escaped his notice: “Fugitive President’s Wife Goes Back.--Victoria Felix, ‘Grass Widow’ of Baracoa’s Missing Chief Executive, Sails To-day for Her Native Land After Two Years’ Exile in Washington.--Serious Illness of Her Father Given as Cause of Trip.”