"What is that?" snapped the Consul savagely. The exclamation was like
the crack of a flapping jib.

"You see, it's this way," began Roddy. He started to explain
elaborately. "Peter and I belong to the Secret Order----"

"Stop!" thundered the Consul. "I tell you I won't listen to you!"

The rebuff was most embarrassing. Ignorant as to how he had offended
the Consul, and uncertain as to whether the Consul had not offended
him, Roddy helplessly rubbed his handkerchief over his perplexed and
perspiring countenance. He wondered if, as a conspirator, he had not
been lacking in finesse, if he had not been too communicative.

In the corner of the room, in a tin cage, a great green parrot, with
its head cocked on one side, had been regarding Roddy with mocking,
malevolent eyes. Now, to further add to his discomfiture, it suddenly
emitted a chuckle, human and contemptuous. As though choking with
hidden laughter, the bird gurgled feebly, "Polly, Polly." And then, in
a tone of stern disapproval, added briskly, "You talk too much!" At
this flank attack Roddy flushed indignantly. He began to wish he had
brought Peter with him, to give him the proper signals.

With his hands clinched behind him, and tossing his white beard from
side to side, the Consul paced the room.

"So that is it!" he muttered. "_That_ is why he left Paris. That
explains the _Restaurador_. Of course," he added indignantly as he
passed Roddy, throwing the words at him over his shoulder, "_that_ is
where the money came from!"

Roddy, now thoroughly exasperated, protested warmly: "Look here," he
cried, "if you aren't careful you'll tell me something you don't want
me to know."

The Consul came to an instant pause. From his great height he stood
staring at his visitor, the placid depths of his blue eyes glowering
with doubt and excitement.

"I give you my word," continued Roddy sulkily, "I don't know what you
are talking about."

"Do you mean to tell me," demanded the old man truculently, "that you
are _not_ Mr. Forrester's son?"

"Certainly I am his son," cried Roddy.

"Then," returned the Consul, "perhaps you will deny he is suing
Alvarez for two million dollars gold, you will deny that he might get
it if Alvarez were thrown out, you will deny that a--a certain person
might ratify the concession, and pay your father for the harbor
improvements he has already made? You see!" exclaimed the Consul
triumphantly. "And these missing boxes!" he cried as tho