s rival, Galdar,
gets his blow in first. I reckon the chances are against Alvarez if
Galdar puts up a fight, but the latter's not ready yet and Alvarez means
to arm his troops before the fellow knows. I imagine about half the
citizens are plotters and spies."

"Alvarez has been honest so far. I suppose if he wins he'll pay?"

"That's so," said Adam dryly. "If he goes down, we get nothing. Although
I don't know much about his ancestors and suspect that one was an Indian,
Alvarez is white, but the other fellow's a blamed poor sample of the
half-breed nigger. Well, when Alvarez found things were going wrong, he
sent for me."

"Ah," said Kit in a thoughtful voice, "I begin to understand."

He did understand, although he would not have done so when he met his
uncle first. He had known Adam play the part of a merciless creditor, and
thought few men could beat him at a bargain, but he kept his bargain when
it was made, and now and then risked his money on lost causes. It looked
as if he had inherited something from Christopher the Jacobite.

"You have known Alvarez long, haven't you?" Kit resumed.

"When I met him first, he was a customs officer with some perquisites and
a salary that paid for liquor and tobacco. Vanhuyten and I ran the old
_Mercedes_ then, and Van made a mistake that put us at the fellow's
mercy. There was a good case for confiscating the schooner, which would
have given Alvarez a lift while we went broke. In fact, the night of the
crisis, I dropped Van's pistol overboard; he'd got malaria badly and was
feeling desperate. Well, all we had given Alvarez didn't cover that kind
of a job, but he'd promised to stand our friend and kept his word like a
gentleman. Guess it needed some nerve and judgment to work things the way
he did, and when we stole out to sea at daybreak past the port guard, I
knew there was one man in the rotten country I could trust with my life.
Now he's in a tight place, he knows he can trust me."

Adam got up and crossing the deck leaned against the rails. In the
distance, where the glitter faded, there was a long gray smear that
seemed to float like a smoke-trail above the water. Higher up, a vague
blue line ran across the dazzling sky. The first was a fringe of mangrove
forest; the other lofty mountains. A minute or two later, the fat,
brown-faced captain came down from his bridge.

"Looks like the Punta; we've hit her first time," he remarked. "In about
an hour I ought to get my m