"Take his other
arm."

With the strength the fever lent him, Roddy hurled the two men from
him.

"She and Vega--they stood on the wharf," he shouted, "you understand?
They laughed at me. And then the sharks smelt me out and followed; and
I couldn't hide because the harbor was on fire. I struck at them and
screamed, but I couldn't shake them off; they dived and turned; they
crept up on me stealthily, in great circles. They were waiting for me
to drown. Whichever way I swam I saw them, under me, on every side!
They lit the water with great streaks of flame. And she and Vega
pointed me out and laughed."

"Stop him!" shrieked Peter. "You _must not_ listen! Give him morphine!
Dope him! Stop him!"

Roddy wrenched his wrists free and ran to Pedro, clutching him by the
shoulders.

"But _we'll_ save him!" he cried. "_We'll_ set him free! Because he is
an old man. Because he is a great man. Because he is her father. We'll
make him President!" His voice soared exultantly. "To hell with Vega!"
he shouted. "To hell with Alvarez!" He flung up his arms into the
air. "Viva Rojas!" he cried.

Peter turned on Vicenti and shook his fist savagely in his face.

"What you've heard," he threatened, "you've heard under the seal of
your profession."

But the eyes that looked into his were as wild as those of the man
driven with fever. The face of the Venezuelan was jubilant, exalted,
like that of a worshipping fanatic.

"The truth!" he whispered breathlessly, "the truth!"

"The boy is raving mad," protested Peter. "He doesn't mean it. You
have heard nothing!"

From the servants' quarters there came the sound of hurrying
footsteps.

In alarm, Vicenti glanced in that direction, and then came close to
Peter, seizing him by the arm.

"If he's mad," he whispered fiercely, "then _I_ am mad, and I know ten
thousand more as mad as he."

When the sun rose dripping out of the harbor, Vicenti and Peter walked
into the garden.

"I can leave him now," said the doctor. He looked at Peter's white
face and the black rings around his eyes, and laughed. "When he
wakes," he said, "he will be in much better health than you or I."

"He certainly gave us a jolly night," sighed Peter, "and I shall never
thank you enough for staying by me and Pedro. When a man I've roomed
with for two years can't make up his mind whether I am I or a shark,
it gets on my nerves."

A few hours later, in another garden half a mile distant, Pedro was
telling his