"It is the truth," cried Joyce clenching his fist, "if you do not believe me," he added listening for a moment, "here is one who will tell you."
"Santiago!" said Herrick rising to be ready for emergencies.
"Yes! He is coming up the stair now."
At that moment there was a shrill whistle outside, Belcher's signal.
[CHAPTER XIX]
DON MANUEL'S RECOLLECTIONS
Santiago entered the room quite unsuspiciously. His step was light, his eyes were bright, and he had evidently been successfully plotting some new and lucrative villainy. In a moment his astonished eyes lighted upon Herrick, standing tall and smiling on the hearth-rug. A Spanish oath of the coarsest slipped from his mouth, and he looked about as evil as a man can look who knows that the game is up. However he was plucky enough to show fight. He even attempted bluff.
"What are you doing in my rooms Señor?" he demanded in Spanish. "If you----"
"Don't you think we had better keep to English?" said Herrick blandly. "I know you speak it so well, and of course we have our mutual friend Joyce to consider. You are surprised to see me. Natural, very natural."
Joyce sat in his chair silent and white. He was too frightened to open his mouth for he knew something of Don Manuel's rages, and dreaded the tornado which would ensue when the Mexican learned how Herrick had been told everything by his weak-kneed coadjutor. For a moment Santiago (still in ignorance as to the true state of affairs), ground his teeth. Then by an effort of will he recovered his smile, and to all appearances his usual temper. "You will excuse me if I spoke rudely Señor," he said with a polite how, "it is not my custom. But I am rather taken aback at meeting you here. I do not remember having asked you to come."