“There are millions here,” he said. “We have only to stretch forth our hands and take them.”
“The wealth of a world,” Itto observed.
The men talked together in Spanish for a long time, and Ned tried hard to make something of the discussion, but failed. He was convinced, however, that Chester was being urged and argued with by the others and was not consenting to what they were proposing to him.
In half an hour a man who looked fully as Oriental in size, manner and dress as Itto stepped inside the door and beckoned to that gentleman. Asking permission to retire for a few moments, Itto passed out of the door with the newcomer. Instead of going on down the secret staircase, however, the two opened a door at the end of the little hall upon which the front room gave, and appeared in the apartment where Ned was hiding.
The boy, however, was not in view from the place where they stood, and they had no reason to suspect his presence there, so he remained quiet and listened with all his ears to the low-voiced conversation carried on between the two.
“And these are the latest?” Itto asked, referring to papers in his hand.
“Yes, they are the last.”
“And the showing—”
The newcomer shrugged his shoulders.
“You see for yourself,” he said.