ust now."

"We might catch him perhaps on the rebound!" Hillyard suggested.

"Lopez thinks so," said Fairbairn, with a nod towards Baeza.

"I can find him this evening," Baeza remarked.

The three men conferred for a little while, and as a consequence of that
conference Lopez Baeza walked through the narrow streets of the old town
to a cafe near the railway station. In a corner a small, wizened, square
man was sitting over his beer, brooding unhappily. Baeza took a seat by
his side and talked with Juan de Maestre. He went out after a few
minutes and hired a motor-car from the stand in front of the station. In
the car he drove to the park and went once round it. At a junction of
two paths on the second round the car was stopped. A short, small man
stepped out from the shadow of a great tree and swiftly stepped in.

"Drive towards Tibidabo," Baeza directed the driver, and inside the
dark, closed car Baeza and Juan de Maestre debated, the one persuading,
the other refusing. It was long before any agreement was reached, but
when Baeza, with the perspiration standing in beads upon his face,
returned to his flat in the quiet, respectable street, he found Martin
Hillyard and Fairbairn waiting for him anxiously.

"_Hecho!_" he cried. "It is done! Juan de Maestre will continue to go on
board the ships and collect the information and write it out for the
Germans. But we shall receive an exact copy."

"How?" asked Hillyard.

"Ramon will meet a messenger from Juan. At eight in the morning of every
second day Ramon is to be waiting at a spot which from time to time we
will change. The first place will be the cinema opposite to the old Bull
Ring."

"Good," said Hillyard. "In a fortnight I will return."

He departed once more for Gibraltar, cruised up the coast, left his
yacht once more in the harbour of Tarragona and travelled by motor-car
into Barcelona.

Fairbairn and Lopez Baeza received him. It was night, and hot with a
staleness of the air which was stifling. The windows all stood open in
the quiet, dark street, but the blinds and curtains were closely drawn
before the lamps were lit.

"Now!" said Hillyard. "There are reports."

Fairbairn nodded grimly as he went to the safe and unlocked it.

"Pretty dangerous stuff," he answered.

"Reliable?" asked Hillyard.

Fairbairn returned with some sheets of blue-lined paper written over
with purple ink, and some rough diagrams.

"I am sure," he replied. "Not because