Virginia Throgmorton’s return from the fortress to the United States
legation was almost as comfortable a proceeding as if she had been
coming home from a social function. Captain Ernesto Reyes himself
escorted her in the launch to Puerto Cabero. The last train to the
capital had gone when they reached the station, but the gallant captain
knew where a fast automobile could be obtained, and, pressing it into
service, rode with her to the door of her home.
Captain Reyes’ manner toward her was very sympathetic. If he had any
suspicions of the part she had played in the Camera Chap’s adventure,
he did not betray them. Apparently he was completely deceived by the
ingenuous story which she had narrated in order to account for her
startling visit to the fortress.
This story, which was the Camera Chap’s invention, was true enough--as
far as it went. She explained that she had been out motor boating
in the bay with a young man, a friend from the United States. The
motor-boat trip had started out most delightfully, but just as the boat
arrived in the vicinity of the fortress, her companion had spoiled the
whole evening for her by suddenly falling or jumping overboard. What
had become of him she did not know. She feared that he might have been
killed by the harbor sharks. What had happened after that, Captain
Reyes knew as well as she did; screaming with terror, she had headed
the boat toward the fortress, and had fallen fainting into the arms of
the sentry.
When Captain Reyes and, later, the commandant of the garrison,
had asked her to tell the name of her man companion who had been
unfortunate enough to fall overboard, she declared, with a blush, that
she would rather not give that information, as the man was not in the
good graces of her father, and she feared that she would get into
trouble at home if the fact that she had been with him should come out.
Greatly to her astonishment, they had appeared to be satisfied with
this ingenuous explanation which she and Hawley had expected would
prove to be the weakest part of her story. The Camera Chap had
instructed her that if this evasion should prove ineffectual, and the
inquisitors should insist upon her telling the name of her escort, she
was finally to give them the information, since her refusal to do so
might get her into trouble. Virginia had secretly resolved to disregard
her ally’s instructions in this respect. She had made up her mind that
she would languish in a Baracoan dungeon for the rest of her days
before she would mention the Camera Chap’s name. But, fortunately, it
did not come to that. The commandant said courteously that he would
respect Miss Throgmorton’s wishes in the matter, and not force her to
make any revelations which were embarrassing to her.
Later on, Virginia learned the explanation of this astonishing
forbearance, but it did not occur to her, then, that the reason they
did not press her for the name of her companion might be that the name
was known to them already.
Expressing deep sympathy for her alarming experience, the gallant
commandant of El Torro had offered her refreshments, and then assigned
Captain Reyes to escort her home.
Early the next morning, Virginia sent a trusted messenger to the
Hotel Nacional, with a note for Hawley. The messenger was instructed
to bring back the note to her if the Camera Chap was not there. The
girl realized the imprudence of this act, but she felt that she must
know without delay what had become of the daring man of whose fate she
was in absolute ignorance. Half an hour later her messenger, an old
negro manservant, whom her father had brought with him from the United
States, and who had been in the service of the Throgmortons since
Virginia’s birth, returned to the embassy and handed back her note.
“He is not there?” she exclaimed. “Hasn’t he been back to the hotel
since last night?”
The old servant nodded. “Yes; he has been back, Miss Virginia; but he
is not there, now,” he whispered. “He has been arrested. The clerk
informed me that soldiers came to Mr. Hawley’s room late last night and
took him away to the arsenal.”
Virginia’s first sensation upon hearing this was one of intense relief.
The situation was bad enough, to be sure, but the thought of the
Camera Chap being in a prison cell was not nearly so disquieting as the
fear that he might have been drowned or killed.
“Arrested!” she cried. “On what charge, Uncle Peter?”
The old negro shook his head. “I couldn’t find out what they done
accuse him of, Miss Virginia,” he replied. “The clerk didn’t know.”
She did not have to wait long, however, to be informed on this point,
for just then Gale entered the room. He appeared to be greatly excited.
“Heard the news, Virginia?” he asked. “A friend of yours was arrested
last night.”
“A friend of mine?” the girl echoed, with an inflection of wonder. “Who
was that?”
The reporter grinned. “A young man named Frank Hawley, sometimes known
as the Camera Chap,” he announced. “From what I hear, he’s in pretty
bad.”
“Indeed!” Virginia exclaimed, arching her eyebrows. “What has he done?”
Gale’s grin broadened. “They accuse him of being a spy,” he declared.
“A spy!” cried the girl, with a nervous laugh. “Why, how perfectly
absurd. Surely he will have no difficulty in disproving that charge.”
“Think so?” the reporter rejoined, a vestige of a sneer in his tone.
“Well, I’m not so sure of that. It looks to me as if they’ve got
the goods on him. He went out to the fortress last night and took a
flash-light photograph of the fortifications. That’s a pretty serious
business.”
“Flash light of the fortifications!” Virginia cried impulsively. “Is
that what they think he was after?”
She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth, and
would have given a great deal to be able to recall them, as she
observed the astonished expression which came to the man’s face.
“What do you mean by that?” he demanded sharply. “Have you any reason
to think that he was after anything else?”
The girl shrugged her shoulders. “How should I know what he was after?”
she said indignantly. “What I meant was, that I scarcely thought it
possible that he would have gone there for that reason. Mr. Hawley
isn’t a spy; he is a newspaper man. It is much more logical to suppose
that if he took any picture at all, it was a photograph of the fortress
for publication in his paper.” A shade flitted across her face. “What
does he say?” she demanded, striving desperately to keep all trace of
anxiety out of her voice. “What explanation does he give?”
“That’s the queer part of it,” the reporter replied. “He won’t give
any explanation at all. They tell me that he’s as tight-mouthed as a
Wall Street magnate before a congressional investigation committee. To
all questions they put to him last night he replied that he refused to
answer, by advice of counsel. The idiot seems to take his arrest as a
joke.”
An expression of admiration came to Virginia’s pretty face. She
felt sure that she understood the reason for the Camera Chap’s
uncommunicative attitude. It was not with an idea of making things
easier for himself, she knew, that he had refused to answer their
questions. It was because he was determined to make no statement which
might lead Portiforo to suspect the truth, with disastrous results for
the unfortunate captive of El Torro.
“But, take it from me, he’ll soon find that it’s no joke,” Gale went
on, a malicious glint in his eyes. “He’ll be lucky if he gets off with
a prison sentence. The chances are that they’ll back him up against a
stone wall, with a handkerchief over his eyes and a firing squad in
front of him. That’s the treatment they generally hand out to spies.”
Virginia turned pale. “They wouldn’t dare do that!” she gasped. “Even
Portiforo would be afraid to go so far with a citizen of the United
States.”
“I don’t know about that,” Gale rejoined. “It’s been done before,
you know. When a man’s convicted of being a spy, they can do as they
please with him, and his government is powerless to interfere. That’s
international law. Surely you, the daughter of a diplomat, ought to
know that.”
Virginia did know that, and an expression of horror came to her
eyes. Then, suddenly, her face lighted up. “You are exaggerating
the situation, Mr. Gale,” she said, with a scornful laugh. “They
don’t shoot spies in times of peace. If you are such an authority on
international law, you ought to know that. It is only when there is war
that they adopt such stern measures.”
“Very true,” the reporter returned, with a grin. “But evidently, my
dear Virginia, you are not aware that the Republic of Baracoa happens
to be in a state of war at the present moment. I heard, this morning,
that Rodriguez, who broke out of jail the other day, reached the hills
yesterday, and raised the standard of revolt. And they accuse Hawley
of being mixed up with the revolutionary party. So you see, I am not
exaggerating the seriousness of his plight.”