The Coast of Adventure Part 17

"He might have wanted them to make trouble, so we'd put them ash.o.r.e and he could get hold o' them again. Then it's possible it would have suited him if they'd knifed you or me."

"There may be something in that. Anyhow, your going overboard after Pepe ended the matter well. They're not ungrateful; it gives us a hold on them."

"I see that noo, but I did no' stop to think before I jumped,"

Macallister modestly admitted. "It was what ye might call a stroke o'

natural genius. Then, ye see, I threw him in."

Grahame laughed.

"Well, we must keep our eyes open, and get away as soon as we can. I expect to finish with Don Martin to-morrow."

On the following evening Cliffe was sitting with Evelyn in his private room at the International when a mulatto boy brought him in a card.

"Senor Gomez!" he remarked. "The fellow has kept me hanging round three days, and I'd made up my mind to sail with Grahame to-morrow, whether he came or not."

"Who is Senor Gomez?" Evelyn asked.

"I understand his official t.i.tle is _Secretario General_, and he's next in power to the President of the country I'm trying to do business with.

My opinion is that they're both slippery rascals."

He broke off as the door opened and a dark-skinned gentleman came in.

Gomez bowed ceremoniously to Evelyn and Cliffe, and then waited with his hat in his hand. He was dressed all in black except for his spotless linen. He wore a number of valuable rings, and Evelyn noticed that his nails were unusually curved and long. She shrank from the glance of bold admiration he gave her, but resentment and half-instinctive dislike conquered this feeling, and she returned his greeting politely when Cliffe presented him. She thought no better of him when she withdrew after some general talk.

"Now," Cliffe said when Evelyn had left them, "we'll get down to business. I've been waiting three days for you, and am not sure the deal is worth it."

Gomez spread out his hands with a deprecatory air.

"It was impossible to come sooner; affairs of state, you understand! May I suggest that the concessions we offer you are valuable?"

"So it seems!" Cliffe rejoined bluntly. "The price you asked was high enough, and now, when we have half fixed things, you want to raise your terms."

Gomez looked pained. He was rather stout and greasy, but his dress and manners were unexceptionable.

"Senor, that is a grief to us, but the affairs of my country necessitate the change. We only ask for a little more money in advance. It is to the advantage of all parties that you agree."

"I can't see how it is to my advantage to part with money I can make a good use of," Cliffe replied.

"I must speak frankly, senor." Gomez's manner became confidential.

"These concessions have already cost you something, and there are dissatisfied people who are anxious to rob the President of his power."

"I've heard that some of them are anxious to shoot him; but that's not my business."

"With your pardon, senor, we must disagree. If the President loses office before the papers are signed, the concessions go. I imagined you understood this."

"I suppose I did understand something of the kind," Cliffe admitted.

"Still, if the revolutionists prove too strong for you, I'll lose any additional money I may let you have."

Gomez smiled, a slow and rather cruel smile.

"If we can get the money there will be an end of the discontent; we know how to deal with it. And now, with apologies, I must remark that while we give you the first opportunity, there are others----"

"Ah!" said Cliffe sharply. "I'd thought this business wouldn't have much attraction for my rivals. Whom am I up against?"

Gomez gave him a letter from a German syndicate, and Cliffe examined it closely. He knew the princ.i.p.al, and recognized the signature.

"I see; they're bolder than I thought," he said. "If I don't come up to the line, you'll make the deal with them."

"We should be forced. The political situation demands it."

"You mean you must have the money. Well, you have got a good deal of mine already. What becomes of it if the thing falls through?"

"It was a gift," Gomez answered with an apologetic smile. "Your generosity will be gratefully remembered."

Cliffe was silent for a few minutes. He had not been tricked, because he had known that when one negotiates a transaction of that sort with a Spanish-American country, a certain amount of money must first be spent in clearing the ground, and this, going into the pockets of venal officials, offers no direct return. Gomez and his master had, however, been smarter than Cliffe thought, for, after exacting all they could from him, they had opened negotiations with another party, and would force him to come up to his rival's bid. They could do so, because if he drew back he would lose the money he had already put in. He distrusted them, but he thought he would be safe when he secured the concessions.

"I guess I'll have to meet you," he said, "but we'll get everything fixed up now."

Half an hour afterward he lighted a fresh cigar, and put some papers into his pocket. He was not altogether satisfied, and neither was Gomez, but they had by mutual compromise arrived at a workable arrangement and each had some respect for the other's astuteness.

"How will you get across to Jamaica?" Gomez asked.

"A little boat sails in the morning."

"The very small, lead-colored steamer? The senorita may find the accommodation rude. Why not wait for a pa.s.senger boat?"

"It's fine weather, and the man who owns her is a friend of mine."

Gomez was puzzled. He was suspicious of the _Enchantress_, and had taken trouble to find out something about her. It surprised him to learn that her owner and Cliffe were friends.

"Then he is in Havana?"

"He's in this hotel. I noticed him sitting, half asleep, in the far corner of the lounge just before you came in. Do you want to see him?"

"Oh, no," Gomez said in a careless tone, for he feared he had been incautious. "I imagined you meant he was somebody you knew in America."

He made an excuse for leaving, but Cliffe, noticing his interest, was not satisfied, and went out to the landing with him. Gomez, however, did not go straight to the lounge. He was afraid of rousing Cliffe's curiosity, and men of his stamp are seldom direct in their methods. It seemed wiser to spend a while sauntering about the _patio_, where Cliffe could see him. But Grahame in the meantime came up the stairs, and Cliffe beckoned him.

"Do you know Senor Gomez?" he asked.

"No," said Grahame, immediately on his guard. "I've heard about him.

Clever politician, but a bit of a rogue, I believe."

Cliffe gave him a keen glance.

"I thought he was interested in you, but I may have been mistaken.

Anyway, I told him you were taking a _siesta_ in a corner of the lounge."