Just then Harding, attired in white duck and a big Panama hat, came out into the veranda, and glanced at them.
“If you are coming with me, Mr. Palliser, you have no time to lose,” he said. “You may, however, find my company dangerous, especially if we can’t get into Santa Marta and reach the banker’s house while it’s dark.”
Tony smiled. “I’m not coming, sir.”
“Well,” said Harding, glancing at him curiously, “I guess you know your own affairs best. Maccario sent that fellow word to be ready to smuggle me in, Appleby.”
“He will be waiting, and you are not likely to have much difficulty with the patrols when you are inside the town. Still, it is a big risk, sir.”
Harding laughed. “I have been taking steep chances all my life, and I have quite a few dollars scattered up and down this country which I can’t afford to throw away. They’re not exactly mine, since it seems to me that I’m holding them in trust for my daughter Nettie. Now, I guess I’ve kept those men of yours long enough already.”
He shook hands with Tony, and the men below flung up their rifles to the slope when he and Appleby went down the stairway. Maccario walked down the tram-line with them, and then stopped a moment when they reached the road, where Harding laid his hand on Appleby’s arm.
“I leave you in charge of San Cristoval and my affairs here with every confidence,” he said.
“I shall endeavor to deserve it, sir,” said Appleby. “Still, it is not quite out of the question that Morales may burn the hacienda.”
Harding smiled. “The hacienda can be built again, and they can’t blow up the land. It will stop right there all the time, in spite of them.”