"You were watching the young man at the gangway. You wanted to know all about me and the Juan Lopez. You were overheard talking to Señor Alfaro. You followed the young man to this house. I want to know who is employing you to do all this."
The quiet demeanor of the speaker helped Walter to regain his self-confidence. If he could keep his head he might be able to extricate himself.
"Nobody employed me. I had nothing better to do," he truthfully replied. "Aren't you taking a lot for granted? I am just out of the hospital and looking for a job. I don't look like a very dangerous person, do I?"
"That depends," slowly spoke Captain Brincker. "You may be merely meddlesome. Do you want to go home to the States? The passage can be arranged, and some extra money for your pocket. There is a condition——"
"That I keep my mouth shut," hotly retorted Walter. He turned very red. His temper got the better of him. He was not old enough and wise enough to fence with such a situation as this. With reckless, headlong candor, he burst out:
"You are offering me hush money. It's a crooked, dirty proposition. And I won't stand for it. I know you were in the scheme to steal commissary stores from the wharf——"
Walter checked himself, aghast that he should have said so much and thereby delivered himself into the enemy's hands. The effect of this speech upon Captain Brincker was extraordinary. He pulled at the ends of his gray mustache as if greatly perplexed, winked rapidly, and stared with an air of blank amazement:
"Steal the commissary stores?" he echoed. "I have been called many hard names, young man, but I plead not guilty this time. Now that you have begun, will you be so good as to let the cat all the way out of the bag?"
It was Walter's turn to feel bewildered. Captain Brincker's denial carried conviction. It impressed Walter as genuine. Perhaps his conjecture had been wrong. At any rate, the checker was guilty, and why had the two of them come straight to this house from Balboa?