"Then that story you told us about General Mendez, and about the trap Pitou was laying for him, was untrue?"
"Much of it was not the exact truth," the don cheerfully admitted. "General Mendez and his force are not far from the Purgatoire River, but it is he who is laying the trap for Pitou, and not Pitou for him. General Pitou will have to capture the fort at the mouth of the Izaral and be able to turn its guns on General Mendez, or the loyalist forces will drive the rebels into the sea. In order to keep track of Mendez, we need the submarine for scout duty up and down the river. Now, Motor Matt, you are thoroughly familiar with the boat, and our proposal is that you and your men take charge of her and render gallant service for General Pitou. Some of our men, of course, will stay on the boat to make sure that you prove faithful to your promises to us, but that will be a mere formality.
"If you will do this, I promise to pay you the sum, in gold, that I mentioned when talking to you in the harbor at Belize. Furthermore, in the event that General Pitou's uprising is successful, and we make him dictator of the country, you and your friends will share liberally in the division of the spoils. What do you say? You are young men—mere youths, in fact—and such a golden prospect ought to appeal to you."
Matt stared at the don.
"And you," he breathed, "are the Spanish consul at Belize! What would happen to you if they knew, in Spain, how you are meddling with the affairs of a country with which your own is at peace?"
The don laughed.
"I might just as well puncture that bubble here and now," said he. "I am not Don Ramon Ortega, the Spanish consul, but Don Carlos Valdez, the revolutionist."
Matt started back.
"Don Carlos Valdez!" he exclaimed.
"Now, sink me!" cried Dick. "We heard about you in Belize, Don Carlos."