Kendric went back to his chair from which he eyed Rios narrowly. The Mexican's look was full of craft.
"Let's have it, Rios. What now?"
"What I said to you earlier in the evening came from the heart," said Rios. "That without my help you cannot leave; that you may have that help. For a price."
His utterance was incisive; his voice, eager and quick, filled the room. Evidently he had no fear of eavesdroppers. Kendric stared at him curiously.
"For a double-dealing gentleman you have considerable assurance," he grunted. "You don't seem to care who hears."
Rios waved an impatient hand.
"I know what I am about," he retorted. "La Señorita Zoraida is in her own rooms where she entertains one of your friends while the other cools his heels in her anteroom. I have assurance, yes; because just now I am the man of the hour! Your destiny and that of your compatriot, Miss Betty, as well as the destinies of your two friends and perchance of yet others, lies in my hand."
"You talk big when Zoraida's eyes are not on you," said Kendric.
Rios stared insolently, then shrugged and made for himself a tiny white paper cigarita.
"I talk big because I can, as you say north of the border, 'deliver the goods.' Do you wish to go free?"