The American shrugged his shoulders as he took the bills, rolled them up nonchalantly and placed them in his trousers pocket.
"You can find me at the Hidalgo Hotel whenever you want me," he said, "and now I must be going."
He arose from his seat, and as he did so, Donald caught sight of his face. It was the mountebank, Strong, but in his stylish clothing Don had failed to recognize him.
"Great Scott!" he muttered to himself, "the plot thickens!"
"What's that?" queried the lieutenant, who caught the muttered exclamation.
"Nothing much," replied Donald as the three men walked toward a door in the farther end of the room and he was enabled to speak without being heard, "only that is the man I'm looking for. Let's get out of the window and see if we can't head him off."
He closed the door and turned the key which he had quietly taken from the other side.
The windows were open and they looked out. They were on the side of the house overlooking a good-sized lawn.
"That's the reason they are not barred," explained Donald. "Had they been front windows, we might as well have been in jail. You go first and I'll cover the retreat."
Lieut. Grimes sprang into the window and lowered himself to the ground, just as a hand turned the knob.