"She's thinking about ye and when a lassie goes so far——"
Grahame stopped him with a frown.
"I'd sooner you dropped this nonsense. It's a poor joke."
"Weel, if ye have no ambition! Selling guns to revolutionists is no' a remarkably profitable business, particularly if ye're caught, and I was thinking ye might do better. The girl's no' bad to look at; I've seen ye watching her."
"Not bad to look at!" Grahame checked himself. "We'll talk about something else."
"As ye like!"
Macallister took out a small, tapered piece of steel.
"This, ye ken, is a cotter, and the dago from the foundry put it in. He was a good fitter, but the pin's a sixty-fourth too small for the slot. Maybe it was carelessness; but there would have been trouble when the cotter shook out if Walthew hadna' heard her knocking. Yon lad has the makings o' an engineer."
Grahame looked thoughtful.
"Gomez was in Havana, and I dare say he has his agents and spies. Still, if he suspected anything, it would have been a better stroke to have watched and seized us when we had the arms on board. I'd expect him to see it."