Appleby sat silent for almost a minute, and then seeing that Tony was resolute made a little gesture of resignation.
“Well,” he said slowly, “we will talk to Maccario. Mr. Harding, I may ask you for a month’s leave when we have taken Santa Marta.”
“You shall have it,” said Harding quietly.
Just then, as it happened, Maccario strolled into the veranda, and Appleby, who stood up, laid his hand on Tony’s shoulder.
“I have the honor of presenting you another comrade,” he said.
[XXIX — TONY PERSISTS]
FOUR of the Sin Verguenza girt with bandoliers were waiting in the patio while Harding made hasty preparations for his journey when Appleby and Tony stood on the veranda. The night was a trifle clearer than any of them desired, though the half-moon had dipped behind the flat roof which was projected sharply against the luminescent blueness of the sky. A stream of light shone out from the open window of Harding’s room, and Pancho’s voice rose suggestively now and then as he watched him dressing. Harding, who had affairs of importance with the banker, was going into Santa Marta, and since it appeared more than likely that Morales knew he had arrived at San Cristoval, it was essential that, in order to avoid observation, he should be attired correctly in Cuban fashion.
Appleby, however, scarcely heard the major-domo, for he was making another attempt to induce Tony to leave with Harding, who purposed to head for the coast in the hope of finding a steamer there when he had made what arrangements he could respecting his Cuban possessions. Tony listened with a quiet smile, and then resolutely shook his head.
“We have been through it all before, and you are only wasting breath,” he said. “I am going home with you when you have taken Santa Marta, but until then I stay here.”
Appleby lost his patience. “It’s a piece of purposeless folly. What have you to do with the fall of Santa Marta?”