The president chuckled. “There is one other person to whom you are indebted for your good fortune,” he announced dryly.
“Who is that?”
“Your brother journalist, Señor Gale. He was here yesterday to see me concerning you.”
“To intercede for me?” Hawley exclaimed, scarcely able to conceal his astonishment.
Portiforo smiled. “He gave me some information concerning you which had a great influence upon me,” he said vaguely. “In fact, if it had not been for the arguments he advanced, I don’t think I should have decided to grant you freedom, even to oblige my dear friend Señor Throgmorton.”
CHAPTER XXXIV.
BLUE SPECTACLES.
When Gale told Virginia Throgmorton that he had a cablegram from his office asking him to return to New York and report for duty immediately, the girl received the tidings with an equanimity which was not at all flattering to his pride.
“Won’t you be sorry to see me go?” he queried. Although his host’s pretty daughter had taken no pains to conceal her dislike for him, his egotism was so strong that he found it difficult to believe that he really was not in her good graces.
“I think I shall be able to survive the blow,” Virginia answered lightly.
The reporter frowned. “You didn’t feel that way about me when I first came here, Virginia,” he said reproachfully. “You and I got along together famously at first. It was only when that scamp Hawley first showed his face in San Cristobal that I began to lose my pull with you.”