may fail. I must have another; so must you. We must each have a man who knows all. So why not—the two of us? One and one make two.'
'You wish my agreement?'
'Exactly.'
Armagnac arose and extended his hand. Morales came to his feet and joined in the clasp.
Two men of evil genius were united in a common cause. The strategy of Alfredo Morales had won him the alliance of Pierre Armagnac.
Now, as the two resumed their seats, Morales leaned forward and spoke in a low confidential tone.
'I shall tell you all my plans,' he said, 'but before I do, it would be wise for you to obtain the information I require. When you have assured me that you have the facts I need, we will be on a fair basis. Each of us will have some knowledge that the other must need. You understand?'
'That is good,' returned Armagnac.
THE Frenchman spoke thus because he realized that he was at a disadvantage. He had no idea what scheme Alfredo Morales might have designed; but he knew well that the man from the Argentine must possess a workable method. Despite the friendliness evidenced by Morales, it was obvious that Armagnac had first fallen into the other's power.
Crafty to the extreme, Pierre Armagnac saw that he was necessary to Alfredo Morales. Why should he balk or why should he demand to know everything, now?
Morales had been frank. He needed contact with what was going on across the river. Armagnac was ready to get that contact. Then, he knew well, he would possess an advantage of his own. There could be no talk of other than equal terms.
But even as he visualized the fabulous wealth that the future was to bring, Pierre Armagnac experienced a disturbing thought. He hastened to express it before Alfredo Morales proceeded with other discussions.
'You drew me from the inn,' remarked Armagnac, 'because you were sure you knew my identity. You made yourself conspicuous so that I would follow. But there was another at the inn—a man whom I was watching. Who is he? Some other man who has designs?'
Morales shook his head.
'He is not one of us,' he declared. 'I obtained information on every one of Partridge's agents before I set sail from Buenos Aires. I do not know the man's identity. He has not been to Partridge's, for I have watched there. But I have prepared to interview him.'
'To interview him? Where?'
'Here. As I interviewed you.'
A gleam of understanding came over Pierre Armagnac's bearded countenance. Surely, he should have realized this scheme. The same lure that had brought him to this cottage would bring another also. But where was the other? Morales seemed to divine the question that was in Armagnac's mind.
'I study men,' declared Morales. 'I studied two at the inn to-night. One was yourself—a man who meets a risk quickly. The other, I could see, was slower of action.
'I did not think that both would follow me. I felt sure that one of them would follow me; and that the second would trail the first. You, I knew, would be the first. The second should be here shortly. He is one who would not enter.'
'Then you expect him?'
'Very soon.'
'But if he will not enter?'
'He will enter.' Alfredo Morales pronounced the words in a prophetic tone.
As if in answer to his statement, footsteps sounded outside the room. Pierre Armagnac leaped to his feet.
Alfredo Morales remained seated, smiling.
Into the room came three men. Two of them were armed with rifles. They were Jose and Manuel.
Between them was the third man, his hands raised above his head, his face sullen and expressionless. It was Vic Marquette of the secret service.
Alfredo Morales chuckled, and Pierre Armagnac smiled as they recognized the features of the man whose identity they did not know.
CHAPTER XI. THE DEATH SENTENCE
ALFREDO MORALES had become an inquisitor. His victim was Vic Marquette. A shrewdly watching spectator, Pierre Armagnac listened to the questioning. Jose and Manuel, rifles crooked over elbows, stood in readiness behind the man whom they had captured.
'Good evening,' remarked Morales, in a suave tone. 'May I ask the purpose of your visit?'
No change of expression appeared upon Marquette's stolid countenance.
'A rather out-of-the-way spot, this cottage,' resumed Morales. 'It is not surprising that we should wish to know the identity of a chance visitor.'
Vic Marquette maintained his indifference.
'Who are you?'
The question snapped from the lips of Alfredo Morales like the crackle of a whip. The Argentinian's eyes were flashing angrily, as he demanded the identity of the prisoner.
'I happen to be a guest at the Westbrook Inn,' replied Marquette, speaking for the first time. 'I was walking through the woods, and I saw the light of the cottage. I approached, not expecting the welcome that I have received.'
A sneer appeared upon the Argentinian's lips. He knew well that Marquette was bluffing. He had expected such a statement.
'Visitors are not welcome here,' he said. 'unless they state their name and purpose.'
'My name is not important,' retorted Marquette, 'and I have no purpose here.'
'This is private property,' stated Morales. 'It is risky for a person to enter here unasked. I regret to say that I cannot be held responsible for any accidents'—he accented the word in a sinister tone—'that might occur to intruders.'
Marquette had no reply. Morales glared at him; then seeing that the secret-service man was obdurate, he spoke to Jose and Manuel.
'Search him,' he ordered.
Manuel obeyed, while Jose kept watch. The one item that came from Marquette's pocket was a businesslike automatic that Manuel tossed on the floor. Then Manuel stepped back and joined guard with Jose.
MORALES reached forward and picked up the automatic. Jose watched the action. An odd look appeared in Jose's eyes. At the very spot from which Morales had lifted the gun, Jose saw the shadowed silhouette of a man's features!
Morales, apparently, did not notice the shadow. But Jose's eyes moved along the floor, following an extended blotch that terminated at the window.
The greasy-faced man trembled. It was with an effort that he managed to retain his rifle.
Had it not been that Morales was interested in other matters, the leader would have noticed the servant's trepidation. But Morales, now that he had examined the automatic, was again ready to question Vic Marquette.
This time, Morales spoke in a harsh voice that brooked no delay. He betrayed impatience in his words.
'Who are you?' he snarled. 'Why are you here? Answer—or take the consequences!'
Vic Marquette did not answer. He knew well that he was dealing with two dangerous men. Both, he realized, were foreigners. Anything that Marquette might say would lead to the one fact that he did not wish to reveal— namely, his connection with the secret service.
Lurking near the house, Vic had been trapped by Jose and Manuel. They had been lying in the clearing after their capture of Pierre Armagnac. Now, facing two men from other countries, Vic knew that he could expect no mercy if he told them who he was.
Of all the forces of law in the United States, these men would be most antagonistic to the secret service.
