Gomez was puzzled. He was suspicious of the Enchantress, and had taken trouble to find out something about her. It surprised him to learn that her owner and Cliffe were friends.
"Then he is in Havana?"
"He's in this hotel. I noticed him sitting, half asleep, in the far corner of the lounge just before you came in. Do you want to see him?"
"Oh, no," Gomez said in a careless tone, for he feared he had been incautious. "I imagined you meant he was somebody you knew in America."
He made an excuse for leaving, but Cliffe, noticing his interest, was not satisfied, and went out to the landing with him. Gomez, however, did not go straight to the lounge. He was afraid of rousing Cliffe's curiosity, and men of his stamp are seldom direct in their methods. It seemed wiser to spend a while sauntering about the patio, where Cliffe could see him. But Grahame in the meantime came up the stairs, and Cliffe beckoned him.
"Do you know Señor Gomez?" he asked.
"No," said Grahame, immediately on his guard. "I've heard about him. Clever politician, but a bit of a rogue, I believe."
Cliffe gave him a keen glance.
"I thought he was interested in you, but I may have been mistaken. Anyway, I told him you were taking a siesta in a corner of the lounge."
Grahame smiled carelessly.