“Why stall?” Ballou's question was a harsh one. “You're in a tough spot, Legira. I'm showing you a good
way out. Listen to me—we've put you where you can't move. Savvy?
“You've raised ten million dollars, very nicely. But the people that are giving it to you aren't so dumb. This
bird Powell has been watching you all along. I guess I'm not telling you news when I say that.
“If he sees anything phony about you, he'll tell those bankers that are putting up the dough. He's their
investigator. One bad report from him, and the deal will be off!”
“Very interesting,” observed Legira calmly.
“You're foxy,” said Ballou. “You know we don't want to tip off Powell any more than you do. Because if
you don't get ten million, we can't get it. But if it comes to a pinch, we'll queer your game right at
headquarters by letting Powell get wind of us. Just remember that!”
“Thank you,” commented Legira.
“Powell won't get wise,” resumed Ballou. “You won't tell him; we won't tell him. You're going to get that
ten million dollars. Right. But after you get it, we'll take it away from you. You're the only man who can
get it, and we're going to watch you all the time.
“But if you bungle it, by waiting too long, there'll be nothing in it for any one. So we're giving you a break.
Take the ten million, and be quick about it. Pass over half, and keep the rest. What do you say?”
“You have spoken words that interest me greatly, Mr. Ballou,” remarked Legira. “One word in particular
was most noteworthy.”
“What was that?”
“The word we. Just what do you mean by we, Mr. Ballou? I should be glad to learn the names of some
of your associates.”
An angry, defiant expression came over Ballou's face. For a moment the visitor appeared about to lose
his temper. Then he smiled, in ugly fashion.
“You're working for some one else, aren't you?” he demanded.
“I represent the official government of Santander,” said Legira proudly.
“All right, then.” Ballou's smile broke into a harsh laugh. “I represent the unofficial government. Let it go
at that.”
“I recognize none but the official.”
“Why be a fool, Legira?” quizzed Ballou. “They're all alike, down in Santander. Out for what they can
get. Graft—that's the big word. Same as it is everywhere in South America—”
“I do not relish insults,” interposed Legira coldly. “The government which I represent is composed of
men who are honest and sincere. They have the interests of Santander at heart.”
“All right,” agreed Ballou. “Suppose they do. They want money, too. Five million dollars. They won't
sneeze at that, will they? You're up here, asking for ten million. How much of it you intend to hand over is
your own business, not mine. All I'm here to tell you is that you get five million. Not a nickel more!”
“I intend to deliver any money that I may receive to the government of Santander,” declared Legira.
“If—as you believe—I am to receive ten million dollars, all of it will go to the right men in Santander. But
I do not have ten million dollars. I may never have it—”
“You'll get it!” interrupted Ballou, rising impatiently. “Ship it to Santander on any boat you want. I'm
telling you that the minute that money leaves New York, it's lost to you. Understand? Split here, and
we're quits. Try to slip one over on us, you'll lose all. We've got things sewed up—”
BALLOU stopped abruptly. He turned and strode to the door. He stopped there and waited for Legira
to speak. The consul said nothing.
“We're giving you ten days,” declared Ballou, in a final tone. “We get our half then. If we don't—”
“Well?”
Legira's question was a cold interruption.
