The little dialogue had been carried on with the punctilious politeness that usually distinguishes the intercourse of Latin peoples.
The detective fell easily into it, while to the Cuban it appeared to be entirely natural.
Both men arose from their chairs, and the Cuban drew up his cigar with several strong inhalations. Then he bowed, as a signal that he was ready.
Nick Carter stepped in front of him, and, while the Cuban held his cigar between his teeth, the detective, perfecto in mouth, came close.
“Now!” smiled the Cuban.
“Thanks!”
“I’ll draw up a little more.”
“All right! I can get it,” replied Nick.
With the ends of their cigars touching, as the detective drew some of the fire from the Cuban’s to his own, the two men stared directly into each other’s eyes.
The glow of the cigars lighted up their faces, and each had an opportunity to study the other at very close range.