“Indeed? I was not aware that any steamers arrived to-day.”
“Because of the blockade, eh? But I dropped in on the cruiser America.”
“You are of the service?”
“No; I am just a plain American citizen.”
“Well, senor, this is hardly a desirable time for Americans or others to visit Cuba.”
“An eminently proper time for one in my line of business,” replies Ashley. “I am a newspaper correspondent.”
The senor looks the young man over critically. “Your profession is not regarded with especial favor at present by the Spanish Government,” he says.
“I understand so,” drawls Ashley. “Newspaper men have an unpleasant habit of stating facts, something the government is not particularly anxious to have abroad.”
A flush of annoyance mounts the senor’s face, and on the left cheek Ashley for the first time notices a small, crescent-shaped scar.
“Aha!” he thinks. “This gentleman rather answers my friend Barker’s description of the party who left New York with the fair Mrs. Harding.”