Tears glistened in Hal Maynard’s eyes. He was about to speak when Ramirez cut him short by whispering: “I find that this door behind us opens. That is fortunate, for otherwise we would perhaps be captured.” Silently both moved into the hallway. Trying not even to breathe, they listened as a score of Spanish regulars or volunteers marched by. Only a few yards further on they heard the command halt. Then followed a dialogue between an officer and a belated pedestrian. It was soon evident that the latter could not give a satisfactory account of himself, for they heard the officer break in sharply: “Enough! Step in between the files. You shall tell the rest of your story at the Prefatura.” Tramp, tramp! sounded the squad, marching on again. Ramirez listened until long after Hal had heard the last footfall. Then the door was opened once more, and the pair stole out to the sidewalk. “We are safe,” breathed Ramirez. “Walk quickly for a minute, and you will be aboard your ship.” A prediction that was realized, for, without further mishap, they reached the wharf and walked its length. “Who comes here?” growled a gruff voice. Hal’s heart gave a jump at sound of the old, dear, familiar English tongue. “We are friends. I am an American,” he replied, stepping in advance. “I wish to speak with the captain.” “You’ll find him on board, sir,” replied the sailor, more respectfully. “I must leave you, senor,” whispered Ramirez, adding, when he saw Hal’s look of surprise: “The money that you intrusted to me I left with friends. Do not be uneasy. In twenty minutes you should see me back.” Before Hal could grasp his hand to wring it, Ramirez had glided off in the shadows. “Of all the true hearts in the world,” gasped Maynard, admiringly. “Will he come back? I wish I were as sure of heaven!” Without a doubt regarding Ramirez, our hero turned and went aboard the brig. Only three words of introduction were needed to secure a warm grasp from Captain Blodgett’s hand: “I’m an American.” “And left behind, eh?” demanded the captain. “We sail at midnight; Norfolk; there’s plenty of room aboard.” “May I speak confidentially with you, sir?” asked Hal. “Of course.” They conversed in low tones by the rail for ten minutes. After that they turned, looking shoreward. At length, Ramirez appeared. No sooner did he reach the wharf than he struck into a trot that did not slacken until the Cuban reached the Atwood’s deck. “Your money, senor,” announced the breathless messenger. Diving under his jacket, he produced a bag. “To my belief it has not been opened. Nevertheless, senor, you will do me a great favor to count the money, and thus acquit me of all suspicion.” “At your request only I do so,” answered Hal. “Captain, may we use the table in your cabin?” “In more ways than one,” was the hearty answer. “Follow me below, gentlemen.” There, upon the table the bag was opened, the money poured forth.