"Inquisitiveness becomes a habit with fellows like Gomez, and I dare say it's needful. The cafés in these ports are full of political refugees and intriguers."
Seeing Macallister in the hall below, Grahame went down to him and told him what he had learned.
"Weel," said the engineer, dryly, "after that present o' anisado to the men, I'm thinking it would no' be desirable that ye should meet Señor Gomez. For a' that, I would not have him disappointed, and I'll daunder along to the lounge."
"It would be almost as bad if he saw you."
Macallister chuckled.
"He'll have hard work to recognize me afterward. Come away to the hat-rack."
Grahame followed him, feeling puzzled but suspecting that his comrade had some ingenious plan. Seeing nobody about, Macallister borrowed one or two articles from the rack; but neither he nor Grahame noticed that Miss Cliffe watched the proceedings with interest from a shadowy passage.
Shortly afterward, Gomez entered the lounge and saw only one person there, but this individual's appearance surprised him. As the light was not good, he strolled toward the drowsy gentleman who lay negligently in a big chair with a newspaper dangling from his hand. He wore a soft hat, pulled down upon his forehead as if to shade his eyes, and a loose dark cloak hung over his shoulder. He looked like a Cuban and although Gomez noticed that his nails were short and broken, this might be accounted for by his having something to do with sugar-making machinery.
"Perhaps you are not using the diario?" Gomez said.
The man did not look up, but held out the paper with a drowsy grunt.