“I must not ask questions,” remarked Dick, although his words belied the questioning look in his eyes.
“Oh, although I speak in confidence,” Mr. Robles replied, “having learned to trust you, I shall make no secret of my contemplated movements. Tonight I hope to settle my last score”—he paused, then corrected himself—“my last piece of business in California. If all goes well, within twenty-four hours I shall be on the high seas. Never mind my exact route, but my final destination is Spain, the land of my fathers. There, perhaps, you and I may meet again.”
“I hope so. I have come to be deeply interested in you, Mr. Robles.”
“And I in you, young man, all the more because you are now engaged to one I hold very dear. Since her birth, Merle Farnsworth has been a—little protégée of mine.” Again he had hesitated, and his voice had vibrated from emotion. But he was smiling now as he went on: “I have watched with sympathetic interest and approval the progress of your love affair.”
“Through your spy-glass on the tower?” laughed Dick.
“Well, partly in that way, perhaps,” replied Mr. Robles, with eyebrows humorously upraised. “You have had my quiet support from beginning to end, and now that you have won the young lady’s heart, you have my most sincere congratulations. May you have long years together, and every happiness.”
He had clasped Dick’s hand, and placed his disengaged hand affectionately on the young man’s shoulder.
“You are really very kind,” said Dick, cordially responding to the hand clasp.
“Because I have counted you worthy of your great good fortune in winning such a girl as Merle. And I have taken much the same liking to your friend, Chester Munson. Have you heard the news:
“No, but I can guess it.”