“Not so quick,” uttered the soldier, warningly. “Suppose I were to call the guard? You would lose your money and your lives.”
“True,” admitted Juan, composedly; “but then your officers would get the money, and you would get nothing. If you make a trade with us—why, just think what you could do with so much money.”
“If I only knew how to accomplish it,” murmured Pedro, his dark eyes snapping at thought of the good times he could have in Havana with so much wealth.
“Oh, very well,” said Juan, calmly, “if you cannot do it, we have made a serious mistake, and you have been a great loser.”
“Wait,” whispered Pedro. “In five minutes the guard will be changed.”
“And then——”
“I will do my best.”
Hal and Juan ensconced themselves behind some bushes. In ten minutes Pedro Escarillaz returned, trembling and pallid.
Almost in silence, the trade was made, the traitor not daring to look into the eyes of the purchasers.
Silently as shadows, the two latest recruits for Cuba stole off in the night.