As Frank was accompanying her to the door, there came a sudden, sharp knock.
Zuera stopped abruptly, betraying agitation. Her hand dropped on Frank’s arm.
“If it should be Villasca!” she whispered.
“He will meet with a warm reception,” said the boy, as he strode toward the door, which he unhesitatingly flung open.
A small man, in plain clothes, stood at the door. He was a stranger to Frank, but Zuera recognized him instantly.
“Señor Rodriguez!” she exclaimed, in great surprise.
“Señorita Zuera!” cried the man, with an astonished lifting of the eyebrows.
Plainly he had not expected to see her there.
Frank looked from one to the other, and then, bowing politely, he invited the man to enter. The boy was still ready to defend Zuera if needs be, but something told him it was not necessary.
Rodriguez came in, hat in hand. His eyes were keen and restless, his step brisk, and his manner that of a man of business.