“Yes, sir,” said Appleby. “Still, I am afraid you must take both or neither.”
Harding laughed. “Then I’ll show you the place and what your business will be before we argue about the salary. In the meanwhile here are five dollars. Go out and buy hats, but no clothing yet. We’ll get that later. Then walk out of the village, and wait for me out of sight along the carretera. You needn’t be bashful about taking the dollars. They will be deducted from your salary.”
They went out and bought the hats, and had just time to spring clear of the road when two or three mounted officers trotted by. Five minutes later the officers pulled up at the hotel, and Harding, who met them in the patio, recognized Espada Morales in one who saluted him.
“You have had a pleasant drive?” he said. “The Señorita Harding I trust is well?”
Harding nodded, though he was not pleased to notice that the officer’s dark eyes wandered round the patio and as though in search of somebody.
“She will be gratified to hear of your inquiry,” he said. “We are going back now, and there is a kindness you could do me. I am taking two new servants to the San Cristoval sugar mill, and you may have troops or pickets who would stop us on the road.”
Morales tore a slip from a little pad he took from his pocket, scribbled across it, and handed it to Harding.
“If you are questioned show them that,” he said. “When you desire any other service I am at your command.”
Harding took the paper and told his driver to get the mules out, while ten minutes after he and his daughter left the hotel he bade the man pull up beside two figures standing in the road. They got into the carriage when he signed to them.
“If you had waited a little longer you might have met Morales face to face, Mr. Broughton, and that foot of yours would probably have convicted a more innocent man,” he said. “As it is, I have a pass from him that will prevent anybody worrying you until we reach San Cristoval.”