ALVAREZ LAZARO.
That morning Watson Scott had a visitor who gave his name as Alvarez
Lazaro.
Lazaro was a slender man of medium height, with snow-white hair and face
that seemed to indicate he had passed through great suffering of some
sort, for it was strangely drawn and deeply lined. His age seemed
uncertain, but Scott, who was an excellent judge, would have placed him
well along in the fifties, although his step and carriage was like that
of a much younger man.
He was expensively dressed, wore a big sable overcoat, and had on his
fingers a number of rings set with precious stones.
Old Gripper surveyed the visitor with unusual interest. There was
something about the man that fascinated him--something that attracted,
yet repelled.
"I'll not take up much of your time, Senor Scott," said Lazaro, in a
soft, musical voice. "I know you are a very busy man. I have called to
make inquiries about this railroad they say is soon to be built in my
country. I hear you are president of the company."
Scott knitted his heavy brows. "Where had he heard that voice before?"
he asked himself.
"You are from Mexico, Mr. Lazaro?" was his question.
"I am, senor."
"What do you wish to know about the Central Sonora Railroad?"
"It is settled that the road will be constructed?"
"Yes. Every preparation is being made to begin work upon it."
"The company is formed and the stock issued?"
"The stock is not yet issued."
Lazaro had taken a seat on a chair toward which Scott had motioned him.
"But it will be----"
"As soon as we think proper."
"You are confident that the road will pay?"
"If I did not think so, I'd not be so deeply interested in it."
"Naturally not, for I understand you are a very shrewd man of affairs,
senor."
The complimentary words of the Mexican were wasted on Scott, who
believed a man usually dealt in compliments when he was seeking
something to his own advantage.
"Who are your intimate associates in this great project, if I am not
presuming too far by asking, Senor Scott?"
"Mr. Warren Hatch, Mr. Sudbury Bragg, and Mr. Frank Merriwell are in the
company."
"It seems that I have heard of Senor Merriwell. Has he not a rich mine
down there somewhere in Sonora?"
"He has."
"Then it is likely he will be the one most benefited by the building of
this road?"
"It certainly will be a great thing for him."
Lazaro nodded slowly. He knew Watson Scott was surveying him in a
puzzled manner, but he seemed wholly unconscious of the fact.
"The stock of this company you think will be a profitable investment for
those who may purchase it, senor?"
"I believe so."
"Of course your company intends to retain a controlling interest in the
road?"
"Exactly."
"Does Senor Merriwell intend to hold a large amount of the stock?"
"I believe he has pledged himself to take a certain amount of it."
"I have heard that he has other valuable mines besides the one in
Mexico."
"You seem very much interested in him?"
"Not particularly, although to my ears there has come a rumor at some
time that his claim to the mine in Mexico is a very flimsy one and that
he may lose it."
"Wind, sir--nothing more. The rumor was founded on the claims of a
countryman of yours, Senor Porfias del Norte, who held an old and
worthless land grant to the territory in which Merriwell's mine is
located. The grant had been revoked, and Del Norte could have done
nothing had he lived."
"Then he is dead?"
"Dead and buried so deeply that nothing but the horn of old Gabriel can
ever bring him up."
"Then it is likely that Senor Merriwell may escape some annoyance, at
least. I think he will be glad of that."
"I'm not sure about it," said Old Gripper, with a flitting smile.
"Merriwell is a fighter, and he seems to enjoy trouble. But we are not
progressing. You have asked me a lot of questions, but have not yet
stated your business."
"I am contemplating investing in Central Sonora when it is placed on the
market."
"Ah!"
"Yes, senor. I have some money I wish to invest in something solid and
promising. I presume you will be ready enough to put out much of that
stock, and it may start a little slow. On your assurance that you
believe it a good thing, I will take some shares."
"How much do you contemplate investing?"
"What will be the par value of the stock?"
"One hundred dollars a share."
"Then," said Alvarez Lazaro, with perfect nonchalance, "you may put me
down, if you are willing, for one thousand shares."
Old Gripper blinked.
"That is one hundred thousand dollars," he said.
The Mexican bowed.
"Which will be as much as I care to invest in a single enterprise."
The interest of Watson Scott was at a high pitch now.
"It happens that I know nothing whatever about you, Mr. Lazaro," he
said. "I have had other men come here and make similar propositions; but
have found, on investigation, that they had not a dollar behind them. If
you can produce credentials or letters from----"
"I can produce plenty of letters, senor. I have them from many notable
men of my country, including President Diaz. I do not carry them with
me, you understand; but I can produce them whenever I choose. If you
wish, I will make an appointment with you, at which I'll satisfy you
beyond a doubt that I am exactly what I represent myself to be. If it is
possible, I should like to have you dine with me to-night at the
Waldorf. I hope you may find it convenient to accept my most urgent
invitation, senor."
Now, under ordinary circumstances Watson Scott would not have
contemplated such a thing. Lazaro had appeared unheralded and
unannounced, and Scott knew absolutely nothing of the man. Yet all
through that interview Scott had experienced an almost mastering desire
to know something about him. He could not understand why he should take
such unusual interest in the stranger, but from the moment the man had
entered the office Old Gripper was beset by a conviction that this was
not their first meeting.
"I don't know," he said, in a hesitating manner that was wholly
unnatural with him who was generally so settled and decisive. "I
suppose----"
"You will accept," nodded Lazaro, as if it were decided. "At what time
will it be most convenient for you to come."
"Why--er--when do you dine?"
"Whenever Senor Scott chooses," bowed the man with the snowy hair. "Any
hour from six to nine will please me."
"Well, I'll be along between six and half-past," said Scott, and then
wondered why he had said it.
"It is well," bowed Lazaro, rising. "I will now intrude no more on your
precious time."
Scott stood up.
"Hang it all!" he exclaimed. "I'd swear I know you! Isn't it possible we
have met before. I can't seem to remember your face, but your eyes and
your voice seem to stir some forgotten memory within me."
The Mexican slowly shook his head.
"I have traveled much," he said, "and have met many people; but I am
certain it has never been my good fortune to be presented to you, Senor
Scott. Of course it is possible that you may have seen me somewhere and
some time in the past; but I would swear that never until I entered this
office did I place my eyes on you. Your face is one not easily
forgotten."
"And yours is one no man should forget, sir. I presume I am mistaken."
Lazaro paused at the door.
"If you found it convenient to bring along one of your associates in
this railroad deal, say Senor Hatch or Senor Bragg, I should be glad."
"Not likely I can. It is barely possible I might bring Merriwell."
"As I understand, he is too young, Senor Scott. I had rather meet men
older and wiser. I cannot tell why, but the youth of Senor Merriwell has
somehow prejudiced me against him."
"When you meet him, if you do, you'll find him wise far beyond his years
and as keen as a rapier."
"No doubt you are right, senor; but I do not care to make an effort
before him to establish my responsibility. I should feel that the
situation ought to be reversed and that he should be seeking to satisfy
me."
"I believe I understand your feeling on that point, Mr. Lazaro; but you
feel that way because you do not know him. However, we'll leave him out
to-night. Good day. Look for me at the time set."
"Thank you, senor. Good day."
Alvarez Lazaro bowed himself out of the office with the grace of a
Frenchman.
Old Gripper stood quite still a number of moments, frowning deeply.
"Confound it!" he cried. "The impression that I have met that man grows
stronger and stronger. But where--where?"