up
and seeing anything."

Goodwin opened two more letters, and made memoranda in pencil on
them. Then he called "Manuel!" to his secretary, who came, spryly.

"The _Ariel_--when does she sail?" asked Goodwin.

"Senor," answered the youth, "at three this afternoon. She drops
down-coast to Punta Soledad to complete her cargo of fruit. From
there she sails for New Orleans without delay."

"_Bueno!_" said Goodwin. "These letters may wait yet awhile."

The secretary returned to his cigarette under the mango tree.

"In round numbers," said Goodwin, facing Blythe squarely, "how much
money do you owe in this town, not including the sums you have
'borrowed' from me?"

"Five hundred--at a rough guess," answered Blythe, lightly.

"Go somewhere in the town and draw up a schedule of your debts," said
Goodwin. "Come back here in two hours, and I will send Manuel with
the money to pay them. I will also have a decent outfit of clothing
ready for you. You will sail on the _Ariel_ at three. Manuel will
accompany you as far as the deck of the steamer. There he will hand
you one thousand dollars in cash. I suppose that we needn't discuss
what you will be expected to do in return."

"Oh, I understand," piped Blythe, cheerily. "I was asleep all the
time on the cot under Madama Ortiz's orange trees; and I shake off
the dust of Coralio forever. I'll play fair. No more of the lotus
for me. Your proposition is O. K. You're a good fellow, Goodwin;
and I let you off light. I'll agree to everything. But in the
meantime--I've a devil of a thirst on, old man--"

"Not a _centavo_," said Goodwin, firmly, "until you are on board the
_Ariel_. You would be drunk in thirty minutes if you had money now."

But he noticed the blood-streaked eyeballs, the relaxed form and the
shaking hands of "Beelzebub;" and he stepped into the dining room
through the low window, and brought out a glass and a decanter of
brandy.

"Take a bracer, anyway, before you go," he proposed, even as a man to
the friend whom he entertains.

"Beelzebub" Blythe's eyes glistened at the sight of the solace for
which his soul burned. To-day for the first time his poisoned nerves
had been denied their steadying dose; and their retort was a mounting
torment. He grasped the decanter and rattled its crystal mouth
against the glass in his trembling hand. He flushed the glass, and
then stood erect, holding it aloft for an instant. For one fleeting
moment he held his head above the