“If it had not been for you and your companions,” continued Captain Garcia after a pause, “we could not have won. My crew, as you know, were green men and were almost mutinous. My officers were half-hearted and my executive officer I feel sure was in the pay of the enemy. He resisted my authority from the day we left the United States and when we sailed from La Boca for Rio Grande, I found a means of leaving him behind.”
While Captain Garcia was speaking two men came hurriedly out of the house and got into the waiting machine.
“That’s Señor Mareno now,” exclaimed Captain Garcia. “I know him well. He owns most of the steamship lines, and can help us by ordering his agents to watch for this man when he buys his ticket. I shall speak to him at once,” and he drew away from O’Neil and stepped quickly to the side of the machine.
“Good-evening, Señor Mareno,” he said saluting him in military fashion. “May I detain you but a moment?”
Mareno turned a startled face toward the naval officer.
“What do you want?” he questioned impatiently.
O’Neil saw at a glance that the meeting was inopportune for the merchant. The sailor edged nearer, his curiosity aroused. An electric street lamp above them threw their faces in shadow; but there was something familiar in the figure sitting beside Mareno in the automobile.
“Mr. Lazar,” he gasped beneath his breath; he reached out and took Captain Garcia by the arm, almost roughly, and wheeled him about. The next second the automobile had gone.
Captain Garcia turned on O’Neil, a world of surprise in his face.
“Why did you do that?” he exclaimed. “He surely could have helped us.”