“Still,” smiled Mr. Gollan, “perhaps I can do something. At the request of my government, Consul General Lee turned over to me this afternoon the papers and duties of his office. Mr. Maynard, can you suggest any service that I can do you?” “Now, I should say so!” vented overjoyed Hal. “I have been arrested on false charges and a trumped-up paper. Can you not demand to see that document?” “Certainly,” replied Mr. Gollan. “Come with me.” Together they stepped before the official who had just condemned Hal to Morro Castle. “Do you mind my looking at the letter on which this young man’s arrest was ordered?” asked Mr. Gollan. “Certainly not,” answered the official, at the same time raising the paper from his desk and handing it over. “Thank you.” As Gollan ran his eyes over the paper, Hal stood looking on at the spectacle that meant the turning point for his life or death. Suddenly our hero started, uttered an exclamation of astonishment, and snatched the paper from Mr. Gollan’s hands. “I beg your pardon, sir,” came impetuously from the boy, “but do you see this other side of the sheet? It is one of Vasquez’s own business letter heads! He has blundered by not looking at the other side of the sheet on which he wrote! It bears out my charge that he trumped up this letter, for, bear in mind, sir, it was he who pretended to find it in my trunk!” “Car-r-r-r-ramba!” exploded Vasquez, first turning white, next purpling with wrath. Back went the paper into the police official’s hands. Senor Vasquez tried to explain; the police official asked a half a dozen questions in a breath, while Captain Tamiva had much to say. But over all the hubbub arose Consul Gollan’s voice: “As representative both of the interests of Great Britain and the United States, I ask for the instant release of this prisoner.” Too disconcerted to speak, the police official could only nod his consent. Hal felt an arm thrust through his. In a maze he was led down the corridor and into the square. Then a hearty voice said: “My young friend, I am very glad to have served you. I would advise you to leave Cuba at once.” “I intend to,” responded Hal. “I saw an English brig loading at one of the wharves. I think I will try to get passage on her.” “The Emeline Atwood--a good vessel,” replied Mr. Gollan. “She is bound, too, for Norfolk.” Then, after much hand-shaking and many protestations of thanks from Hal, he turned down one of the side streets to the water front. The narrow thoroughfares appeared deserted. He walked quickly. “Now, that was stupid of me,” muttered the boy, after going a quarter of a mile. “Why didn’t I think to ask who it was that took word to Mr. Gollan? Could it have been Ramirez?” “Senor! senor!” whispered a voice through the shutters of a window. “Walk faster, and remember that you are being followed!” Like a shot Hal halted, trying to catch sight of his informant.