The little man wrung his hands.
“When I get you back to the United States I shall throw up my job as your guardian!” he cried.
Frank smiled.
“You will change your mind, professor. You know it is necessary for me to have some sort of a guardian, and you come in very handy. We will talk this matter over later.”
Frank had looked from the window and observed Villasca lounging by the fountain in the square. He was watching the hotel with the eye of a hawk.
“You do not fear Villasca?” said Zuera.
“Not at all,” was the calm answer, in which there was not the least sign of boasting.
“I believe you!” she cried. “You did not fear the bull! And you killed him with the first stroke! It was beautiful! I had thought the Americans all cowards—now I know there is one who is brave—very brave!”
“Thank you,” he bowed. “There are others. Do you know where Señor Menandez is at the present time?”
“In England. He is going to the United States. His own country has made him an outcast, and he will labor for Cuba.”