After a silence she added: “My sainted 'Enery used to s'y the proper hodds for a white man in a bally row o' this nature was forty to one. 'The spiggoty,' says 'e, shoots from 'is 'ip, but the wisitin' brother's spent 'is 'prenticeship at the butts some-w'ere or other an' 'as bloomin' well learned to sight an' 'old his breath 'arf in an' 'arf out when 'e pulls. Gor', but how my sainted 'Enery would henjoy bein' 'ere this night to 'elp with the guns.” She sighed.
“How about a little bottle of wine to drink peace to your sainted Henry and luck to The Cause?” Webster suggested.
“That's wot I calls talkin',” Mother Jenks responded promptly, and Webster, gazing reflectively at the old lady's beard, wondered why she had not been born a man.
Dolores, fearful for her benefactor's safety, urged Mother Jenks to accompany them out aboard La Estrellita, but the old dame indignantly refused, and when pressed for a reason gave it with the utmost frankness: “They'll be tykin' Sarros, an' when they tyke 'im they'll back him ag'in the same wall he backed my sainted 'Enery and your father against, my dear. I've a notion that your father's son 'll let Mrs. Colonel 'Enery Jenks come to the party.”
At ten o'clock Webster accompanied Mother Jenks home in the carriage, which he dismissed at El Buen Amigo—with instructions to return to the hotel while he continued afoot down the Calle San Rosario to the bay, where Leber's huge corrugated-iron warehouse loomed darkly above high-water mark. If there was light within, it was not visible, but Webster, pausing and listening at one corner of the great structure, could hear the confused murmur of many voices, with an occasional hearty oath in English rising above the murmur.
He slipped along in the deep shadow of the warehouse wall and out on the end of the little dock, where he satisfied himself that Leber's launch was at its moorings; then he went back to the warehouse and whistled softly, whereupon a man crawled out from under the structure and approached him. It was Don Juan Cafetéro.
“They're all inside,” he whispered and laid finger on lip. “A lad came down at eight o'clock, took Leber's launch an' wint out to the steamer afther thim. They got in half an hour ago, an' divil a sowl the wiser save meself.”
“Thank you, John. Now that I know the coast is clear and the launch ready, I'll go back to the hotel for Miss Ruey.”
“Very well, sor,” Don Juan replied, and crawled back under the warehouse.
Half an hour later the sound of hoofbeats warned him of the approach of Webster and Dolores in a carriage, and he came forth, loaded in the launch such baggage as they had been enabled to bring, and held the gunwale of the boat while his passengers stepped aboard.