“Pedro Ventana?” interrupted Christobal. “Is he a half-caste, a tall, brown-skinned man, who affects an American drawl when he speaks English—a man prominent in Santiago society and in mining circles generally?”
“Yes,” said Elsie.
“That is odd, exceedingly so. I once heard a rumor—but perhaps it is unfair to mention it in this connection. Yet it cannot hurt any one if I state that Isobel Baring and he were—well—how shall I put it?—at any rate, there was a lively summer-hotel sort of attachment between them.”
“Isobel has never told me that,” said Elsie, nerving herself for a personal disclosure which was obviously disagreeable. “I own a small ranch near Quillota, and, as there was a chance of copper being located there, Mr. Baring advised me to employ Ventana as an expert prospector. Indeed, Mr. Baring himself sent Ventana to examine the property and report on it. He came to see me. He told me there were no minerals of value on my land, but I could never free myself from him afterwards. Indeed, I am running away from him now.”
She uttered the concluding words with a genuine indignation which forthwith evaporated in its unconscious humor. Everybody laughed, even the girl herself, and Boyle grunted:
“Huh, shows the beggar’s good taste, anyhow.”
Courtenay, perhaps, thought that if he encountered Ventana again he would take the opportunity to reason with him in the approved manner of the high seas. And, as there was no need to prolong a topic which caused Elsie any sort of embarrassment, he hastened to say:
“I have brought names into the discussion largely to show what a doubtful field is opened once we begin to suspect without real cause. The only witness of any value we have on board is Frascuelo, and his evidence merely goes to prove a secret design to interfere with, or control, the trimming of the bunker. That particular hatch must be sealed, and the specimens we have secured put away under lock and key. I feel assured that the remainder of our coal is above suspicion. We can carry the inquiry no further while we remain here. Now, Mr. Walker, you have something of a more cheering nature to communicate, I think.”
The engineer grinned genially.
“I don’t wish to bind myself to a day or so, Miss Maxwell and gentlemen,” he said, “but I’ve had a good look at the damage, an’ I feel pwitty shu-aw I’ll get up steam in one boil-aw within ten days or a fawt-night. It’ll be a makeshift job at the best, because I have so few spa-aw fittin’s, an’ no chance of makin’ a castin’, but I’ll bet a ye’aw’s scwew the Kansas gets a move on her undaw her own steam soon aftaw New Ye-aw’s Day.”