rub. The general dissatisfaction at his rule had been no secret, of
course, but the activity of the faction opposing him, the boldness and
daring with which it had risked all to overthrow him, had come as so
complete a surprise that he had been unprepared to meet it. Everywhere
to-night his guards covered the city, ready to crush rebellion as soon
as it showed its head. Carlo was in personal charge of the troops, and
would remain so until after the election to-morrow, at which he would be
declared formally reelected. If he could keep his hands on the reins
for twenty-four hours more the worst would be past. He would give a good
deal to know what that mad Irishman, O'Halloran, was doing just now.
If he could once get hold of him, the opposition would collapse like a
house of cards.

At that precise moment in walked the mad Irishman pat to the Mexican's
thought of him.

"Buenos noches, excellency. I understand you have been looking for me.
I am, senor, yours to command." The big Irishman brought his heels
together and gave a mocking military salute.

The governor's first thought was that he was a victim of treachery, his
second that he was a dead man, his third that he would die as a Spanish
gentleman ought. He was pale to the eyes, but he lost no whit of his
dignity.

"You have, I suppose, taken the palace," he said quietly.

"As a loan, excellency, merely as a loan. After to-morrow it will
be returned you in the event you still need it," replied O'Halloran
blandly.

"You expect to murder me, of course?"

The big Celt looked shocked. "Not at all! The bulletins may perhaps have
to report you accidentally killed or a victim of suicide. Personally I
hope not."

"I understand; but before this lamentable accident happens I beg leave
to assure myself that the palace really is in your hands, senor. A mere
formality, of course." The governor smiled his thin-lipped smile and
touched a bell beside him.

Twice Megales pressed the electric bell, but no orderly appeared in
answer to it. He bowed to the inevitable.

"I grant you victor, Senor O'Halloran. Would it render your victory
less embarrassing if I were to give you material immediately for that
bulletin on suicide?" He asked the question quite without emotion, as
courteously as if he were proposing a stroll through the gardens.

O'Halloran had never liked the man. The Irish in him had always boiled
at his tyranny. But he had never disliked him so little as at this