The next morning, Hawley received a note at his hotel. It was from
Virginia Throgmorton, and it said:
“I must see you at once. Something very alarming has happened. I am
going out riding this afternoon, as usual. Will you meet me at the same
place? If you can’t be there tell bearer.”
Hawley sent word by the bearer, one of the men-servants of Minister
Throgmorton’s household, that he would surely be there. The steamship
_Panama_ was due to arrive and leave that afternoon, and if he kept
this appointment he would be unable to sail on her; but he had already
fully decided that he was not going back to the United States just yet.
He hated to disappoint Señora Felix, but the latest developments had
removed from his mind all doubts as to what course he should follow.
Virginia Throgmorton’s pretty face wore a very grave and perturbed
expression when Hawley galloped up to the old trysting place on the
steed he had hired for the occasion. “I don’t think I was followed,”
she began, “but if I was it can’t be helped. I have some news so
important and serious that I had to run the risk of meeting you once
more.”
“Is it about our friend Gale?” the Camera Chap inquired, having a
shrewd suspicion of the cause of the girl’s anxiety.
“Yes; how did you guess--or do you know about that dinner last night?”
“I know a little about it, I think,” Hawley answered. “I met Gale last
evening on Avenida Juarez, as he was returning from the palace, and he
told me that he had been President Portiforo’s guest at dinner.”
A shade flitted across the girl’s face. “Did he tell you what took
place at that dinner?”
The Camera Chap nodded grimly.
“What is to be done?” exclaimed Virginia, in a tone of deep concern.
“Poor Señora Felix! I fear that all her brave efforts to save her
husband have been in vain. Now that Portiforo knows that the press of
the United States is aware of his secret, he will take no chances. In
order to avert discovery he will resort to desperate measures.”
“The situation is pretty bad,” Hawley admitted. “Still, it might be
worse, I think. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since I met Gale last
night, and I believe I’ve hit upon a way of lulling Portiforo into a
sense of false security.”
“What is it?” the girl demanded eagerly.
“I understand, from what Gale told me last evening,” the Camera Chap
explained, “that Portiforo invited him to dinner for the double purpose
of finding out how much he knew, and denying vehemently that there
was any truth in the rumor. Now, my idea is that if Gale can be made
to believe that Portiforo spoke the truth--that there is absolutely
nothing in the rumor of President Felix’s confinement in El Torro, he
will wire his paper to that effect, the _News_ will publish the story,
knocking the supposed lie on the head; the story will be cabled back to
San Cristobal, and Portiforo will be satisfied that he has nothing to
fear from the press of the United States.”
“But how are we going to make Mr. Gale believe Portiforo’s denial?”
Virginia queried. “He doesn’t believe it now. He was arguing with
father about it at the breakfast table this morning. He said that
Portiforo was very crafty--that he couldn’t fool him, but that he
intended to keep right on until he got the proof.”
“And what did Mr. Throgmorton say to that?” Hawley inquired, greatly
interested.
“Dad got angry and said that he had given Mr. Gale credit for having
more sense. He asserted that Portiforo was a most estimable gentleman,
and the best president that had ever ruled over Baracoa, and that this
preposterous rumor about Felix was a base slander concocted by the
enemies of the present administration. Dad asked Mr. Gale about his
visit to El Torro fortress. It seems that Mr. Gale went all through the
prison the other day, on a pass from the minister of war. Dad wanted
to know how he had been treated there. Mr. Gale said that he had been
received very cordially, that Captain Reyes had taken him all over the
prison, and that he had discovered nothing to confirm his suspicions.”
“Then he didn’t see the cell with the covered door?” Hawley remarked.
“Evidently not; at least, he didn’t mention it. Still, he is far from
satisfied. He argued with father that the prison officials knew he was
coming, and could easily have removed President Felix before he got
there. So you see, Mr. Hawley,” Virginia pointed out, “we would have
a hard time trying to make him believe that there is nothing in the
story.”
The Camera Chap smiled. “I think I have found a way of convincing him,”
he said quietly. “In order to carry out my plan, Miss Throgmorton, I
shall need your assistance.”
He proceeded to outline his plan, and Virginia’s face lighted up as she
listened. “Excellent!” she exclaimed. “You can certainly count on me to
do my part.”
“And Señora Felix? Do you think you will be able to persuade her to let
us have those letters?”
“I feel sure that she will consent,” the girl replied. “She doesn’t
know yet of Mr. Gale’s interview with Portiforo. When she hears of
it, she will be willing to do anything in her power to avert this new
menace. And she is bound to be impressed with your ingenious plan. It
was really very clever of you to think of it, Mr. Hawley, and I want to
thank you for making my heart much lighter than it was when I came out
here. I felt, then, that all was lost.”
Then, suddenly, her face clouded. “But, after all,” she said sadly,
“even though we succeed in reassuring Portiforo, that isn’t getting
poor President Felix out of prison.” She looked at the Camera Chap
wistfully. “Don’t you think that you’ll soon be able to find a way of
getting that picture, Mr. Hawley?”
The Camera Chap smiled. “I am going to whisper a little secret,” he
said; “I believe I have found a way already. I was out in the harbor
in the motor boat this morning, taking another peep at El Torro, and,
suddenly, an inspiration came to me as to how the thing might be done.
It is a good plan, and I feel confident that it would succeed; but in
order to carry it out, I shall have to find a partner--preferably a
woman.”
“Preferably a woman!” Virginia caught him up eagerly. “Well, you won’t
have to look very far, Mr. Hawley. What’s the matter with me?”
“You!” he exclaimed, as though the thought had never even remotely
suggested itself to him. “Do you mean to say that you’re ready to
volunteer, Miss Throgmorton, without even knowing what the job calls
for?”
“I don’t care what it calls for,” she responded, her eyes flashing. “If
there’s anything that I can do to help get poor President Felix free,
I’m eager to do it. Won’t you let me help you, Mr. Hawley?”
“I’ll consider your application,” he replied gravely. “That’s the
best I can promise now. But, first, we must attend to the business of
getting rid of Gale. We can’t do anything until we’ve made him believe
that President Felix isn’t in El Torro.”