Intuition told Walter that this formidable man had better be avoided. He felt like taking to his heels, but he was boyishly reluctant to show the white feather. Undecided, he failed to retreat until it was too late. Captain Brincker advanced swiftly, confronted him, and asked in a heavy voice: "Were you looking for somebody?" "Yes, but I don't need him just now," stammered Walter, trying to brazen it out. "Another time will do just as well, thank you. I must be going." "Wait a minute," growled the soldier of fortune, and he grasped Walter's left arm with a grip of iron. "I have seen you at Balboa this afternoon, on the wharf, on the Chilean steamer, on the train. Are you not old enough to mind your own business?" Not yet recovered from the battering effects of the landslide, Walter lacked his normal strength and agility, and his disabled arm made him as helpless as a child. He dared not try to wrench himself free lest it be injured afresh in the tussle. "You can't scare me with your bluffs," he angrily retorted. "What right have you to ask my business?" "We will discuss that. And if you are not willing to talk, I may have to hold you by the _right_ arm." Walter winced at this and looked up and down the street. Brown, naked children were playing in the gutters. Fighting-cocks were tethered to the iron railing in front of a near-by dwelling. A black-haired young man with a chocolate-drop complexion, lounging on a balcony, lazily thrummed a guitar. Strolling pedlers cried their wares with rude snatches of song. The voices of fishermen came from the beach by the sea-wall. The place was wholly foreign, unfrequented by Americans. The Canal Zone and its protecting power might have been a thousand miles away. The passers-by would be pleased to see Walter worsted in a scuffle. His affairs concerned them not in the least. It was futile to call for help. He had been rash and stupid. "What do you want to say to me?" he demanded, trying to keep his voice under control. "It is not hospitable to make you stand in the street," and Captain Brincker smiled grimly. "Come inside with me." As he spoke he twisted Walter violently about and shoved him into the vestibule of the house, which was only a step from the street. Jerking himself free in blind rage, Walter struck at his captor, who dodged and slammed shut the heavy outer door behind them. It was like being in a prison. Walter moved aside, trying to guard the injured arm. "You are excited. I do not wish to be brutal," said Captain Brincker. "You are very easy to handle. You will be foolish if you object."