As Captain Codman seated himself behind his desk he was frowning.
“You must look out for that guide,” he said. “He is from Caracas. He is an agent of Alvarez. It just shows,” he went on impatiently, “what little sense these spies have, that he didn’t recognize your name. The Forrester Construction Company is certainly well enough known. That the son of your father should be spied on is ridiculous.”
“Then, again,” said Roddy mysteriously, “maybe it isn’t. I haven’t got such a clean bill of health. That’s why I came to you.” With an air which he considered was becoming in a conspirator, he lowered his voice. “May I ask, sir,” he said, “if you are acquainted with Señora Rojas, who is in exile here?”
The blue eyes of the Consul opened slightly, but he answered with directness, “I am. I have that honor.”
“And with her daughters?” added Roddy anxiously.
With dignity the Consul inclined his head.
“I want very much to meet them—her,” corrected Roddy. “I am going to set her husband free!”
For a moment, as though considering whether he were not confronted by a madman, the Consul regarded Roddy with an expression of concern. Then, in the deprecatory tone of one who believes he has not heard aright, he asked, “You are going to do—what?”
“I am going to help General Rojas to escape,” Roddy went on briskly—“myself and another fellow. But we are afraid he won’t trust himself to us, so I am over here to get credentials from his wife. But, you see, I have first got to get credentials to her. So I came to ask you if you’d sort of vouch for me, tell her who I am—and all that.”
The Consul was staring at him so strangely that Roddy believed he had not made himself fully understood.