"I'm beginning to feel I've had enough," Peters presently remarked. "Life in the swamps is strenuous and one likes quiet when one's no longer young." "On the surface, things looked pretty dull. I felt languid as soon as I arrived and didn't really wake up until I left." Peters smiled. "Yet I imagine you found the monotony is sometimes broken. Besides, you didn't stay long enough to learn that much that's curious goes on beneath the surface. There's an underworld." He paused and added meaningly: "On the whole, I think the term is pretty good." "I was satisfied with the surface. Anyhow, I didn't try to look beneath," Marston rejoined, with some dryness. "In fact, I'd sooner leave some things alone." "A prudent resolve, when one can carry it out! But d'you imagine your partner controlled his curiosity?" Marston feared that Wyndham had not, and frowned, because he felt Peters had meant his remark to be significant. The latter resumed: "Of course, you can live tranquilly at the old Spanish ports; that is, if you are sober and resist the dark-skinned señoritas' charms. Perhaps the worst risk a rash stranger runs is being found in a dark _calle_ with a jealous half-breed's knife in his back. In order to get hurt, you must court danger; in the swamps it haunts you. Of course, if you trade in the regular markets, the profit is not large; but if I could get a good post at a port with a casino and cafés, I think I'd be satisfied." "Haven't your employers a job that would suit to offer you?" Marston asked carelessly. "They have not. They have been grumbling recently and hinting that I've got slack. As a matter of fact, they have some grounds. My knowledge of the business is pretty extensive, but since your partner came on the scene the goods we want to get have gone to Wyndhams'. I'm now going to Hamburg to account for this, but doubt if I can do so satisfactorily. My explanation's rather romantic than plausible." "Then, you have an explanation?" Peters smiled. "Yes. It looks as if the Bat had let his old friends go and taken Wyndham up." "Ridiculous!" said Marston. "What has the Bat to do with trade? He's not a merchant or a cultivator." "For all that, the fellow has power. The President rules the cities, the _guardias rurales_ the cleared land, but the Bat and the devil rule the bush. I know half-civilized _Mestizos_ who believe the Bat is the devil. Anyhow, he's a useful friend." "He's not my friend," Marston rejoined. "However, if your employers are not satisfied, I don't see how I can help." "I have a plan," said Peters. "I know the bush, the negroes, and their habits, as few white men know them, and my knowledge is worth much to a merchant house. Well, I'm not greedy and imagine you'd find it worth while to give me a small partnership; or, if you'd sooner, appoint me your agent at a port from which I could control the lagoon trade."