But Juan Ramirez suddenly and resolutely checked the thought that perhaps he might be justified in using some of the money intrusted to him by our hero. “He said that belonged to another. Therefore he would not thank me to use some of it to save his life.” Such was the simple creed of honor of this Cuban. He was soon rewarded, however, by a flutter of the eyelids, a sigh from the unconscious one. “Santa Maria! He still lives!” cried the Cuban, now overjoyed, and working as if his own life depended upon the result. A minute later Hal Maynard opened his eyes. Juan bent so low over him that, despite the darkness, our hero recognized his rescuer. “Ramirez?” he murmured. “At your service, Senor Americano.” “But I was dropped into the harbor--weighted.” “And I, senor, was fortunate enough to be near by.” Hal blinked stupidly, having by no means recovered his wits as yet. “Rest easily, and breathe freely,” counseled the Cuban. “Do not try to move yet. Do not even try to think.” Hal obeyed, lying there for two or three minutes before he tried again to speak. “Where are we now?” he asked, finally. “Senor, I would caution you not to speak above a whisper. We are both in danger, if some unfriendly prowler should overhear us. Let me raise you--so. Now, do you see the building over yonder that rests upon the water’s edge?” “Yes.” “It was from one of those windows that you were dropped.” “And you----” “I was prowling near, senor. No sooner did the scoundrels hear the splash than they closed the window. It was then that I dove into the harbor, swam to you, and found you some ten feet below the surface. It was a simple matter to cut the ropes that bound the weights to you. Then I brought you here. That is all, senor.” “All?” echoed Hal, now sitting up. “It seems to me, my friend, that you make a very modest statement of your noble action.” “Senor, to-day you trusted me. In return I could not do less.” “And it was you, I am sure, who went to the British consulate----” “I was there, senor.” “And it was you who lodged the information that resulted in my release at the Prefatura.” “It was I, senor, as you have guessed,” Ramirez quietly replied. “You have been my good angel to-day,” cried Maynard, gratefully. “I could not do less, senor, after a stranger had trusted me.” “And it was you who warned me to-night that I was being followed.” “Wrong this time, senor. It was a friend of mine.” “Yet he worked at your instigation?” “True.” “And, finally, you have saved me from certain death.” “All of which, Senor Americano, gives me occasion to rejoice,” answered the Cuban, simply. Hal now managed to get upon his feet. No sooner did he find himself facing the Cuban than he warmly grasped the latter’s hand. “I owe you my life and the safety of my money,” cried Maynard, impulsively. “Yet I never saw you before to-day. Pardon me if such great friendliness bewilders me.”