He chuckled, well satisfied with his diplomacy.
"I understand that; however, we cannot obliterate her entirely. Pretty enough to be useful too, I imagine, if she can ever be brought to view this affair from the right angle. Could n't you be induced to attempt a little, missionary work? Love-making at sea is said to be especially pleasant."
I shook my head, gazing directly into his eyes, barely able to keep from throttling him.
"Drop it," I said sternly. "The girl is to be left alone if I have any part in your scheme. Now I want to know what is expected of me; may I ask questions?"
He lit another cigarette, calmly indifferent to all outward appearance.
"Certainly—fire away."
"Where are we bound?"
"Spanish Honduras," lazily, but spreading out a map, and tapping it with his finger. "Perto Cortez, if we can make that port safely; if not then somewhere along the coast between there and Trupillo. There will be signals."
I leaned forward, startled out of my self-restraint. "Honduras! Good Lord! what are you—a filibuster?"
"Hardly," with a short laugh. "That is too dangerous a job, and not money enough in it. I prefer to do my revoluting through others, and cop the swag. That is the safe end of the game. It happens to be Honduras just now; I have been equally interested in other downtrodden countries. In truth, friend, I am a patriot for revenue only."