The sarcasm was not lost on Miranda, who shrugged his shoulders, muttered some unintelligible Spanish imprecation and exchanged a comprehending glance with General Herran. Raoul Arthur, on the other hand, ignored the tone Leighton had adopted in addressing him. In his reply he dropped the irritation and suspicion with which he had first regarded the old savant, and there was even cordiality in the manner and look accompanying his somewhat ceremonious acceptance of the task imposed upon him.
“If I thought it possible of so profound a scholar, Professor Leighton,” he laughed, “I would say you were chaffing me. As it is, I feel the honor in your proposal that I should join you in solving these mysterious disappearances. Perhaps I can be of some help. At any rate, depend on me for whatever I can do.”
“Two Americans unaccountably disappear in the heart of Colombia,” mused Leighton. “If it were not for certain odd circumstances, I should say the country’s indignation over the loss of Panama had something to do with it.”
Against this suggestion Miranda impatiently protested.
“Impossible!” he shouted. “Always these people fight with the gun, the machete, if they are angry. They make much noise and talk; never they steal the enemies of their country and say nothing. It is one plot—and perhaps this senor will know,” he concluded, darting an accusing glance at Raoul.
But Raoul, now thoroughly composed, smiled disdainfully, although agreeing in Doctor Miranda’s rejection of Leighton’s half-formed theory.
“If it is necessary,” he assured them, “I can easily prove that I have had nothing to do with all this. I have not been out of Bogota for a month or more. Besides, I have the strongest business reasons for wanting the safe return of David Meudon to this country. As for Mr. Parmelee; I repeat—I never heard of him before. But, I agree with our friend here; the disappearance of these two men has nothing to do with the Panama trouble. It is something else. There is a mystery about it. I have no doubt it can be solved.”
“You have the clew?” demanded Leighton.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Well?”