"But he has a revolver. He tried to kill me with it," cried Alfaro.
"Pshaw, I never found one of you Spanish-Americans that could shoot straight," was the impolite comment.
They left the cab at the nearest corner. Devlin strode ahead, Alfaro peering warily about for unfriendly policemen of the Panama force. In front of the house Devlin halted and said:
"You are a professional diplomat. Better stay outside and jolly the Spiggoty police if a row breaks loose inside. They will try to help Quesada. If I need you I'll sing out good and loud."
"But I am not a coward," earnestly protested the Colombian. "I am not afraid to go in with you. Goodwin saved my life. I will do anything for him."
"You do as you're told, young man, or I may get peevish with you," was the decisive reply.
Devlin rang the bell. When the door was opened by some one dimly visible in the unlighted vestibule, he demanded in very bad Spanish:
"I wish to see General Quesada. It is important."
A strong voice answered in excellent English:
"The general will not be home to-night. What is your business?"