Billy smiled. "A man like Prado," he answered ironically, "is likely to be out when people start blowing up his palace. I shouldn't wonder in the least if he did it himself, and used the chance to sneak out of the country. As for the League—well, you know as well as I do what these rotten little South American States are like. Prado probably belonged to some secret society that helped him murder Solano and bag the Presidency; and then, when he'd got the job, I've no doubt he rounded on them. They must have some pretty strong reasons for chasing him round the world like this."
"Well, strong reasons or not," I said, "I'm going to fetch Mercia out of that house to-night and take her up to London. I shan't rest till I know she's safe with the Tregattocks."
"I'm with you," said Billy simply. "How do we work it?"
I thought rapidly. "We'll take a tip from Maurice," I said. "You go back to Woodford, and send me a wire about five o'clock saying that I'm wanted in London immediately. That will give me an excuse for getting away. I'll tell them that I'm going to motor up, and then I'll drive over and meet you at the Plough."
Billy nodded. "Right you are," he said. "I'll see the car's ready." Then he chuckled. "We ought to have quite a cheery little evening," he added, rubbing his hands together.
"It's business, Billy," I said, "not pleasure. We don't want any fighting if we can get Mercia away without."
"There's a precious fat chance of that," observed Billy. "I can see old Dot-and-carry-one handing her over with his blessing—can't you?"
"He can take his choice," I answered.
There was a short silence. "And what's the next move when we get to London?" inquired Billy.
I shrugged my shoulders. "It's not much good making plans," I said. "Man proposes and Señor Guarez disposes. The only thing I've quite made up my mind about is that I'm not going to give the show away before the three weeks are out. They've got my back up, Billy, apart altogether from my having given my word to Northcote."