guessed was the
comandante, and two younger men who were standing behind a railing and
bending over a telegraph instrument on a table. As he stamped into the
room, they looked up and stared at him in surprise; their faces showed
that he had interrupted them at a moment of unusual interest.

MacWilliams saluted the three men civilly, and, according to the native
custom, apologized for appearing before them in his spurs.

He had been riding from Los Bocos to the capital, he said, and his
horse had gone lame. Could they tell him if there was any one in the
village from whom he could hire a mule, as he must push on to the
capital that night?

The comandante surveyed him for a moment, as though still disturbed by
the interruption, and then shook his head impatiently. "You can hire a
mule from one Pulido Paul, at the corner of the plaza," he said. And
as MacWilliams still stood uncertainly, he added, "You say you have
come from Los Bocos. Did you meet any one on your way?"

The two younger men looked up at him anxiously, but before he could
answer, the instrument began to tick out the signal, and they turned
their eyes to it again, and one of them began to take its message down
on paper.

The instrument spoke to MacWilliams also, for he was used to sending
telegrams daily from the office to the mines, and could make it talk
for him in either English or Spanish. So, in his effort to hear what
it might say, he stammered and glanced at it involuntarily, and the
comandante, without suspecting his reason for doing so, turned also and
peered over the shoulder of the man who was receiving the message.
Except for the clicking of the instrument, the room was absolutely
still; the three men bent silently over the table, while MacWilliams
stood gazing at the ceiling and turning his hat in his hands. The
message MacWilliams read from the instrument was this: "They are
reported to have left the city by the south, so they are going to Para,
or San Pedro, or to Los Bocos. She must be stopped--take an armed
force and guard the roads. If necessary, kill her. She has in the
carriage or hidden on her person, drafts for five million sols. You
will be held responsible for every one of them. Repeat this message to
show you understand, and relay it to Los Bocos. If you fail--"

MacWilliams could not wait to hear more; he gave a curt nod to the men
and started toward the stairs. "Wait," the comandante called after him.

MacWil