Later on, it occurred to the News man how the president had probably come into possession of this information. Stephens, his managing editor, had sent him the assignment by wire, and it was more than likely that, in this land, where spying was a fine art, the government maintained a close surveillance over all messages that were received and sent from the cable office. But this simple solution of the mystery did not suggest itself to him immediately, and his perplexity greatly amused his host.
“But do not fear, my dear Señor Gale, that I am in the least bit offended by your activities,” the latter had reassured him. “I realize that you are merely doing your duty. I must express my amazement, though, at the credulity of your editor. Surely he must be a person of scant intelligence, to be deceived by such a preposterous story.”
“He hasn’t been deceived by it,” Gale answered. “I have no doubt, Mr. President, that my editor suspects there is nothing in the rumor; but, just the same, we have to investigate it. You would be astonished to know how many ridiculous tips come into a big newspaper office—rumors that have not a vestige of fact behind them. But we investigate them all. We can’t afford to take any chances. And that is why I have been instructed to look into this matter.”
The reply had seemed to afford Portiforo much satisfaction. “It is well,” he said. “Nothing could please us more than to have this absurd story thoroughly sifted to the very bottom by a fair-minded, highly intelligent journalist such as I know you to be—for I have heard of your worthiness and great skill from my good friend Señor Throgmorton. We court investigation. For, while I feel confident that no intelligent person will give serious consideration to this heinous fabrication of our enemies, at the same time it is exceedingly distressing to me and the patriotic and high-minded gentlemen connected with my administration to have such a rumor circulating in the United States. Therefore, I am hopeful, my dear Señor Gale, that before you leave Baracoa you will be in a position to dispose once and for all of these base calumnies. You have my assurance that nothing will be done to impede your efforts.”
Was Portiforo on the level? That was the question which was perplexing Gale now. He was too astute and sophisticated a man to be entirely deceived by the Baracoan president’s air of sincerity, for in his newspaper work he had been thrown with New York politicians who had been equally perfervid in declaring that they “courted investigation,” and experience had taught him that this wasn’t always to be taken as a sign of innocence. But the result of his investigations to date seemed to favor Portiforo. His tour of inspection through El Torro prison and his skillfully disguised questioning of the soldiers of the garrison and many residents of Puerto Cabero and San Cristobal had failed to unearth a single clew. His conversations with Captain Reyes, whose friendship he had managed to cultivate without difficulty, and who impressed him as being a frank and rather simple-minded chap, had proved equally unproductive.
Then, too, there was the attitude of Minister Throgmorton. As Virginia had told the Camera Chap, Gale had discussed the matter with the United States representative at the breakfast table that morning, and the latter had waxed highly indignant at such insinuations being made against his good friend Portiforo, who, he declared, was the very soul of honor.
Being a pretty good judge of men, the News reporter was not disposed to regard Minister Throgmorton as one of the most brilliant and keen-witted diplomats he had ever met; still, he considered it scarcely likely that Portiforo and his friends could have got away with such an audacious kidnaping plot without the American minister knowing something about it. Therefore, the latter’s faith in the President of Baracoa went a long way toward influencing Gale’s judgment.
That afternoon Gale received a second dispatch from Ben Stephens, his managing editor. It was terse and to the point. It read:
“Have you dropped dead? If not, why don’t we hear from you regarding assignment?”
Gale was strongly inclined to wire back that he had made a thorough and laborious investigation of the tip and begged to report that somebody had handed the News a large and juicy citron. There was only one reason why he did not take this step. That reason was—the Camera Chap. He was afraid that Hawley might have been more successful than he in picking up a clew corroborative of President Felix’s incarceration in El Torro.