“I am,” announced Rodman, calmly. “I could spin you many a yarn of intrigue, but for the fact that, since you began wearing a halo instead of a hat, you have become too sanctified to listen.”
“Inasmuch,” smilingly suggested the painter, “as we might yet be languishing in the cuartel except for the fact that I was able to give so good an account of myself, I don’t see that you have any reasonable quarrel with my halo.”
Rodman raised his brows.
“Oh, I never lost sight of the fact that you had some reason for the saint rôle, and, as you say, I was in on the good results. But, now that you are flitting northward, what’s the idea of keeping your ears stopped?”
“They are open,” declared Mr. Saxon graciously; “you are at liberty to tell me anything you like, but only what you like. I’m not thirsting for criminal confessions.”
“That’s all right, but you—” Rodman broke off, and his lips twisted into ironical good humor—“no, I apologize—I mean, a fellow who looked remarkably like you used to be so deeply versed in international politics that I think this new adventure would appeal to you. Ever remember hearing of one Señor Miraflores?”
Saxon shook his head, whereupon Rodman laughed with great sophistication. Carter had known Señor Miraflores quite well, and Rodman knew that Carter had known him.
“Very consistent acting,” he approved. “You’re a good comedian. In the Chinese theaters, they put flour on the comedian’s nose to show that he’s not a tragedian, but you don’t need the badge. You’re all right. You know how to get a laugh. But this isn’t dramatic criticism. It’s wars and rumors of wars.”
The adventurer drew a long puff from his cigarette, inhaled it deeply, and stood idly watching the curls of outward-blown smoke hanging in the hot air, before he went on.
“Well, Miraflores has once more been at the helm. Of course, in the lower commissions of the insurrecto organization, we have the usual assortment of foreign officers, odds and ends, but the chief difference between this enterprise and the other one—the one Carter knew about—is the fact that we have some artillery, and that, when we start things going, we can come pretty near battering down the old town.”