They turned about and walked past the unloaded launch.
The vice-consul, who had been inside the warehouse, came to the door as our lads passed.
He glanced at them, a startled look on his face, then he smilingly raised his hat.
“Good-morning,” he greeted in English, with a marked foreign accent. “You are off the ‘Connecticut,’ no? We are delighted to see our flag on such a fine large ship. If I can be of the slightest service I shall be highly honored,” he added in the suave tones of a Spanish grandee.
Our boys stopped and returned his greeting, thanking him for his considerate offer. Then they continued their walk.
Phil looked over his shoulder and surprised a sinister expression on Juarez’s face, before he could hide it in a smile of parting.
“I am sorry that fellow saw us; he may suspect that we know something of his secret,” confided Phil, as he and Sydney regained the street of the water front.
They had been on board their ship but a short while when the minister’s launch, with his flag flying in the bow, was reported heading for the “Connecticut.”
The marine guard and the band were quickly paraded on the quarter-deck and the officers, headed by Captain Taylor, all in full uniform, were at the gangway to do honor to the high American official.
The vice-consul accompanied the minister, and as he followed his chief through the formality of hand-shaking, Phil saw him grasp Lazar’s hand cordially and tell him in Spanish how glad he was to see him again.