“I wanted to speak to you, or your friend. You had been deserted by your crew. We knew why. We—we might have helped you.”
“Who are ‘we’?”
“Father and I. What brought you up to the Rio Hondo?” the girl asked quickly.
“The red lure.”
“The red——”
“Mahogany.”
“And is that all?” There was a searching note in her words.
“Quite all. Believe me, it is quite enough. Perhaps you’ve never felt the charm of it. Precious, priceless, perfect wood—mahogany, the red lure. That’s Johnny’s name for it.”
“I know,” said the girl, “I, too, have felt it. I told father that was all. He was not sure. My friend,” the girl’s voice dropped to a whisper, “I have helped you a little to-night.”
“A lot.”