If Lieutenant Ridder had been a less loyal and unselfish friend, he might have sought to take advantage of Virginia’s changed attitude toward the snapshot man and her evident liking for himself; for the daughter of the United States envoy had made such a great impression on him at their first meeting that he couldn’t help feeling envious of Hawley’s good luck. Not being at all the kind of fellow to seek to “butt in” on an absent friend’s romance, however, he made it a point to steer clear of the embassy, and when, several days later, a tinted, perfumed note was handed to him by an orderly on the battleship, a frown came to his face as he read its contents. The note was from Miss Throgmorton, and it ran as follows: “MY DEAR MR. RIDDER: I am wondering why I have not seen you lately. Are they keeping you a prisoner on the ship? If not, and it is possible for you to come ashore this afternoon, I should like very much to have a talk with you. “I am going for a ride into the country, after luncheon. If you could find it convenient to meet me, then come to San Cristobal, and be at the northern gate of the Botanical Gardens, between one and two o’clock. You will find an old colored man waiting there. He will provide you with a mount and conduct you to a place where we can talk without danger of being spied upon. I hope you won’t think me too unconventional in writing to you like this, but I positively must see you on a matter of life and death.” At first his almost quixotic sense of fairness caused him to decide that he would send some excuse for not keeping this appointment, for he suspected that the last paragraph of the note must be more or less of an exaggeration; but presently he reproached himself for his lack of gallantry. He felt sure that Miss Throgmorton was too nice a girl to have urged such an unconventional meeting unless the circumstances justified it. Promptly at one o’clock that afternoon, he arrived at the northern gate of the Botanical Gardens, and was met by old Uncle Peter, who conducted him to a near-by stable where two horses, already saddled, were waiting for them. Half an hour later, as they galloped along a desolate stretch of dusty road, the navy man caught sight of a girl on a pony coming toward them, and his pulses quickened as he recognized the trim, graceful figure. “I suppose you are just burning with curiosity as to why I have sent for you,” Virginia said, with a smile, as they dismounted. “Anxiety would be a better word,” he answered. “The tone of your note was so alarming that it is a great relief to me to find that you can still smile.” The girl sighed. “I suppose I have no right to smile,” she said sadly, “for I really am in great trouble.” “What is it?” he demanded eagerly. “If I can help, Miss Throgmorton, you know you can count on me.”