“What position does he now occupy?” asked Guillermo Gonzales. “I am anxious to know, as you say he is a notch higher in the social scale than in his other life.”
“He is president of the Maguey Paper Factory, and is as dishonest now, in a polite way, as he was in that memorable year, in an uproarious fashion. He is not contented with the immense profit he derives from the sale of the superior paper he manufactures, but he takes the dry maguey leaves, boils them for days—until they are in a pulp—strains it; ferments the liquid and sells it for a kind of rum, which he claims will cure insanity, and I, for one, believe him. I have personally known a dozen or more credulous people—those who are always taking something to aid digestion or strengthen the mind—I say, I believe in this drink—because they lived only a few days after taking it ‘according to directions.’ The poor demented creatures are now ‘cured’ for one existence at least. It is called ‘Perpetuity Miel.’”
“Ah, let me think,” said the Governor; “let me think. I—have received some samples of this rum, with a request to partake of it sparingly, and recommend it to the public.” (He opened a small glass cabinet and took out a large bottle). “Yes, here it is: ‘Perpetuity Miel.’ A strange name, composed of a Latin and Anglo-Saxon word, meaning a sweet, endless duration.”
“Do you, Miguey, recall the name of the president of the ‘Maguey Paper Company’?”
“I do not; I do not. Strange, I do not know, he being so prominent a man in the various commercial fields,” replied the Governor.
Julio Murillo said: “His name in a previous existence was Henry Lexort.”
Mr. Niksab cried, as he clutched his fists and fought at some unseen foes in the air, “The same, the same; he was killed at the Jockey Club for cheating in roulette. He had returned to the city, in disguise, after successfully evading the rurales—for many months. The great desire again to see the scene of his crime led him back to Chihuahua, with the result I have just mentioned.”
“That is a strange truth,” said the Governor, “that criminals more often than otherwise return to the scene of their crimes. More than one has walked to his doom by such rash actions.”
“That is why I have such perfect confidence that the ‘Plunger from Kansas,’ although living his third life since the date of his life in which he committed his famous cattle robbery, will return to the scene of his operations and to the city to which he fled to escape the clutches of the law. But to return to the president of the Maguey Paper Factory. It is quite unusual that the name of so prominent a man in our midst is unknown to five people of intelligence and education.”
“I will ascertain at once,” said Julio. “I will speak over the fluid and have his secretary to give me his full name and address. We may need it for future reference.”