"We should be forced. The political situation demands it."
"You mean you must have the money. Well, you have got a good deal of mine already. What becomes of it if the thing falls through?"
"It was a gift," Gomez answered with an apologetic smile. "Your generosity will be gratefully remembered."
Cliffe was silent for a few minutes. He had not been tricked, because he had known that when one negotiates a transaction of that sort with a Spanish-American country, a certain amount of money must first be spent in clearing the ground, and this, going into the pockets of venal officials, offers no direct return. Gomez and his master had, however, been smarter than Cliffe thought, for, after exacting all they could from him, they had opened negotiations with another party, and would force him to come up to his rival's bid. They could do so, because if he drew back he would lose the money he had already put in. He distrusted them, but he thought he would be safe when he secured the concessions.
"I guess I'll have to meet you," he said, "but we'll get everything fixed up now."
Half an hour afterward he lighted a fresh cigar, and put some papers into his pocket. He was not altogether satisfied, and neither was Gomez, but they had by mutual compromise arrived at a workable arrangement and each had some respect for the other's astuteness.
"How will you get across to Jamaica?" Gomez asked.
"A little boat sails in the morning."
"The very small, lead-colored steamer? The señorita may find the accommodation rude. Why not wait for a passenger boat?"
"It's fine weather, and the man who owns her is a friend of mine."