“Well, let him go until morning. Then give him a good beating.”
“Who is that you are going to whip?” called a woman’s voice from somewhere down below.
“Juanito. He threw a stone and made us a lot of trouble.”
“Why, he couldn’t,” replied the woman. “He is here with me and hasn’t been out tonight.”
“What,” queried Don Pablo, “hasn’t been out tonight? Then there is something wrong! Quick, Luis, call some of the men and make a thorough search.”
The servant hastened to obey, while Don Pablo went back into his room. Through the open door Billie saw him take an envelope from the pocket of the coat which he had thrown over a chair and place it in the drawer of a great secretary. Then, seizing his hat, he ran quickly downstairs, closing the door behind him.
“I thought I would stir things up,” mused Billie, as he crept silently toward the room which Don Pablo had just vacated. “Now, if I can get that envelope and get out of here while the men are hunting for me, I’ll be all right!”
Reaching the door, he waited until the voices below told him that the men had gone out. Then he softly pushed open the door and entered.
It was a larger room than he had thought from the glimpse he had from without, but it lay just as
he expected. Quickly he opened the drawer of the secretary and took therefrom the envelope. By the light of the oil lamp that hung from the ceiling he saw that it bore the name of a New York bank and he had no doubt it contained the evidence he sought.