Oddly enough, Walter made no protest, nor was he any longer angry. He perceived that he had blundered into one affair while he was on the trail of another. Captain Brincker had been honest with him, discussing the situation as man to man, and he was justified in guarding the secrecy of his adventurous enterprise against discovery by the authorities. The alarming possibility was that he might think it his duty to inform his employer of Walter's knowledge concerning the stolen merchandise. "Are you going to report what I found out--that the commissary stores were smuggled on board the _Juan Lopez_?" asked Walter. Before Captain Brincker could answer, there came from behind the palms at the other side of the _patio_ the screeching voice of a parrot: "_Viva Panama. Pobre Colombia. Ha! Ha! Ha!_" [Illustration: "_Viva Panama! Pobre Colombia! Ha! Ha! Ha!_"] Walter jumped from his chair. His cheek was quite pale. He had heard this parrot before. It belonged to General Quesada, who must be the mysterious employer. Standing in a door-way opening from another part of the house was the gross, shapeless figure of General Quesada himself, the parrot cage in his hand. With him was the slouchy young man from Balboa wharf. Before crossing the _patio_ they had halted in time to hear Walter's unfortunate question. The checker repeated it in Spanish, and General Quesada comprehended that the young seaman of the _Saragossa_ who hammered him with a broom-stick had now discovered the plot to rob the American government of supplies for the filibustering expedition. The Panamanian glared wickedly at Walter and bellowed in Spanish a volley of questions aimed at Captain Brincker. The latter answered reluctantly. The scene was evidently distasteful to him. It was in his mind to temper the storm of wrath and hatred. But General Quesada knew that he had been found out. The checker, snarling and vindictive, was rapidly explaining that Walter had been spying at the wharf and on the train, and had followed him into Panama. Captain Brincker turned to the hapless Walter and said with a shrug: "It is a worse fix for you than I thought. General Quesada has a terrible hatred for you because you struck him and disgraced him on the ship from New York. I had not heard of it until now. And he knows that you know too much about the business at the wharf." "Why don't you help me get out of the house?" implored Walter. "You don't seem like a coward. He looks as if he wanted to murder me. I can't put up a fight. I am crippled." The soldier of fortune looked confused and ashamed. He had never earned his wages more unpleasantly, but he made no aggressive movement. Remembering his errand, General Quesada waddled across the _patio_ into the hallway and dismissed the checker. The street door slammed shut with a rattle of bolts. "What did he say he was going to do with me?" Walter besought Captain Brincker.