Until that moment he had felt confident that he had his inquisitive fellow passenger guessing as to the object of his visit to Baracoa, but the significant remark which the latter had just let drop made him exceedingly uneasy. There being no doubt in his mind that Lopez was a secret agent of the Portiforo government, he feared that he was going to have a hard time losing him when they got ashore; in fact, he was now even prepared to be challenged by the immigration authorities, and told that his presence in Baracoa was not desired. But, greatly to his relief, both these fears proved unfounded. When the vessel docked, the pier authorities manifested no more interest in him than in any of the other passengers; on the contrary, the customs officers were so careless in their examination of his baggage that they did not even discover the big camera in his trunk. And when he went ashore, Lopez made no attempt to shadow him; in fact, he saw the latter board a train without even a glance in his direction. Another circumstance which surprised him somewhat was that Señora Felix was also permitted to land without undue attention from the authorities. In view of what had happened at Puerto Guerra, and her obvious interest therein, he had been wondering ever since whether she would not be placed under arrest as soon as she attempted to land, on a charge of being in some way connected with the affair, and he was very glad to find that such was not the case. Hawley watched the landing of the señora with great interest. He observed that as she and her maid stepped from the pier, many people stared at her, recognizing her as the wife of their missing president; but nobody spoke to her, with the exception of a blond-haired, blue-eyed girl in a pink dress, who stepped up and greeted her effusively. This young woman aroused the Camera Chap’s curiosity. It was quite evident that she was not a native of Baracoa; at first sight he would have been willing to bet all the money he had in his pocket that she was of his own people. She appeared to be still in her “teens,” and was of such an attractive personality that almost any one would have bestowed more than one glance upon her, even if his interest had not been intensified by the fact that she was there to welcome Señora Felix. For a few minutes the two women stood chatting together in the plaza in front of the steamship pier, Celeste, the señora’s maid, hanging respectfully in the background. Then, followed by the latter, they made their way toward a touring car standing near by, which they entered. The girl in pink gave some instructions to the liveried negro at the wheel, and the car dashed up one of the steep roads which led to the capital.