voice that quivered with fantastic
tremolos.

Dick went carefully, keeping as far as possible away from the walls. In
Santa Brigida, all white men were supposed to be rich, and the honesty of
the darker part of its mixed population was open to doubt. Besides, he
had learned that the fair-skinned Northerners were disliked. They brought
money, which was needed, into the country, but they also brought machines
and business methods that threatened to disturb the tranquillity the
Latin half-breed enjoyed. The latter must be beaten in industrial strife
and, exchanging independence for higher wages, become subject to a more
vigorous, mercantile race. The half-breeds seemed to know this, and
regarded the foreigners with jealous eyes. For all that, Dick carried no
weapons. A pistol large enough to be of use was an awkward thing to hide,
and he agreed with Bethune that to wear it ostentatiously was more likely
to provoke than avoid attack.

Once he thought he was followed, but when he stopped to look round, the
shadowy figure behind turned into a side street, and he presently found
the man he was in search of in a quiet cafe. He spent some time
explaining the drawings of the patterns that would be required before Don
Tomas undertook to make the castings, and then languidly leaned back in
his chair. His head had begun to ache again and he felt strangely limp
and tired. The fever was returning, as it did at night, but he roused
himself by and by and set off to visit the doctor.

On his way he passed the casino and, to his surprise, saw Jake coming
down the steps. Dick frowned when they met.

"How did you get in?" he asked. "It's the rule for somebody to put your
name down on your first visit."

"So it seemed," said Jake. "There are, however, ways of getting over such
difficulties, and a dollar goes some distance in this country; much
farther, in fact, than it does in ours."

"It's some consolation to think you've had to pay for your amusement,"
Dick answered sourly.

Jake smiled. "On the contrary, I found it profitable. You make a mistake
that's common with serious folks, by taking it for granted that a
cheerful character marks a fool." He put his hand in his pocket and
brought it out filled with silver coin. "Say, what do you think of this?"

"Put the money back," Dick said sharply, for there was a second-rate
wine-shop not far off and a group of untidy half-breeds lounged about its
front. Jake, however, took out another