My country he freed himself from the
Portuguese yoke many and many a year ago. I am a South American, Mr.
Orme--one of the poor relations of your great country." Again the widened
smile. Then he suddenly became grave, and leaned forward, his hands on
his knees. "But this is not the business of our meeting, Mr. Orme."

"No?" inquired Orme.

"No, my dear sir. I have come to ask of you about the five-dollar bill
which you received in the hat-shop this afternoon." He peered anxiously.
"You still have it? You have not spent it?"

"A marked bill, was it not?"

"Yes, yes. Where is it, my dear sir, where is it?"

"Written across the face of it were the words, 'Remember person you pay
this to.'"

"Oh, yes, yes."

"And on the back of it----"

"On the back of it!" gasped the little man.

"Was a curious cryptogram."

"Do not torture me!" exclaimed Senhor Poritol. "Have you got it?" His
fingers worked nervously.

"Yes," said Orme slowly, "I still have it."

Senhor Poritol hastily took a fresh five-dollar bill from his pocket.
"See," he said, jumping to the floor, "here is another just as good a
bill. I give this to you in return for the bill which was paid to you
this afternoon." He thrust the new bill toward Orme, and waved his other
hand rhetorically. "That, and that alone, is my business with you, dear
sir."

Orme's hand went to his pocket. The visitor watched the motion eagerly,
and a grimace of disappointment contracted his features when the hand
came forth, holding a cigar-case.

"Have one," Orme urged.

In his anxiety the little man almost danced. "But, sir," he broke forth,
"I am in desperate hurry. I must meet a friend. I must catch a train."

"One moment," interrupted Orme. "I can't very well give up that bill
until I know a little better what it means. You will have to show me that
you are entitled to it--and"--he smiled--"meantime you'd better smoke."

Senhor Poritol sighed. "I can assure you of my honesty of purpose, sir,"
he said. "I cannot tell you about it. I have not the time. Also, it is
not my secret. This bill, sir, is just as good as the other one."

"Very likely," said Orme dryly. He was wondering whether this was some
new counterfeiting dodge. How easily most persons could be induced to
make the transfer!

A counterfeiter, however, would hardly work by so picturesque and
noticeable a method, unless he were carefully disguised--hardly even
then. Was Senhor Poritol disguised? Orme looked