“Trouble!” he growled. “That's why they're here. Trouble! They think they are fooling me, Lopez. I shall
fool them!”
The secretary nodded.
“Remember in Maracaibo?” questioned Legira. “I looked for trouble then. They tried to kill me there, eh,
Lopez? You remember?”
Lopez grinned and laughed with a menacing chuckle. The wickedness of his tone seemed to please
Legira.
“Francisco was there, then,” smiled Legira reminiscently.
“Francisco is here,” responded Lopez.
“Yes. Francisco is here.” Legira paused to puff thoughtfully at his cigarette. “Francisco is here, but this is
not Maracaibo.”
THE statement brought a solemn expression to the secretary's face. Legira was silent for a minute or
more; then he looked squarely at Lopez, and spoke in a low voice.
“The deal went through to-night,” he said. “Everything is the way I wanted it. Ten million dollars, Lopez!”
“Twenty million pesos!”
“It means more than that, Lopez. Dollars are safer than pesos. Yes, I can obtain the ten million dollars
any time I want them. But after that—”
“You think they will know?”
“Not yet. Not for a while. But I am worried, Lopez. If I proceed quickly, all may be well. On the
contrary, that might be a grave mistake. It is best to wait.”
“But not to wait long, senor.”
“No—not too long. Wait, to see if they know. If they do not know, we can act quickly and surely.”
“What of this man named Powell?”
“I can avoid trouble with him, Lopez. That is part of my plan. I have arranged negotiations so that I deal
with only one man. That is Hendrix, the principal one of the financiers.
“I can handle Hendrix. That will avoid complications with Powell. Unless Powell learns of the others—”
“You mean if he should learn of Ballou. Eh, senor?”
“Not Ballou alone,” said Legira. “Those others, who are with Ballou. There is nothing to worry about so
long as Ballou seems to be an individual by himself. But if his connections are discovered— well, it may
spoil all, Lopez.”
“Could you not watch Ballou, senor?”
“I cannot move, Lopez. Surely, you must understand that. It is like a scales. A balance with Ballou and
Powell. Either one could spoil the balance. That would end everything. Fortunately, Powell is watching
me and is not concerned with Ballou—”
The ring of a bell interrupted Legira's speech. The consul stared at his secretary. From below came the
sound of Francisco's footsteps as the servant answered the door. Then the heavy tread ascended the
stairway. Lopez went to meet the servant.
The secretary's dark visage registered excitement when Lopez returned to the room. Legira looked at
him questioningly.
“It is Pete Ballou, senor,” declared Lopez. “He is down the stairs. He has a wish to see you.”
“Tell Francisco to bring him up here,” ordered Legira in a low whisper. “Come back here right away,
Lopez. Tell Francisco to be slow.”
The secretary nodded. He left to dispatch the servant. He returned, and Legira gripped him by the
shoulder.
