“I know who he is. I don’t know him.”
“Was it Von Plaanden?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because,” returned the other, with convincing coolness, “if it was, I
intend to slap his face publicly as soon as I can find him.”
“You must do nothing of the sort.”
Now, indeed, there was a change in the other’s bearing. The words came
sharp and crisp.
“I shall do exactly as I said. Perhaps you will explain why you think
otherwise.”
“Because you must have some sense somewhere about you. Do you realize
where you are?”
“I hardly think you can teach me geography, or anything else, Mr.
Perkins.”
“Well, good God,” said the other sharply, “somebody’s got to teach you!
What do you suppose would be the result of your slapping Von Plaanden’s
face?”
“Whatever it may be, I am ready. I will fight him with any weapons, and
gladly.”
“Oh, yes; gladly! Fun for you, all right. But suppose you think of
others a little.”
“Afraid of being involved yourself?” smiled Carroll. “I’m sure you
could run away successfully from any kind of trouble.”
“Others might not be so able to escape.”
“Of course I’m wholly wrong, and my training and traditions are
absurdly old-fashioned, but I’ve been brought up to believe that the
American who will run from a fight, or who will not stand up at home or
abroad for American rights, American womanhood, and the American flag,
isn’t a man.”
“Oh, keep it for the Fourth of July,” returned Perkins wearily. “You
can’t get me into a fight.”
“Fight?” Carroll laughed shortly. “If you had the traditions of a
gentleman, you would not require any more provocation.”
“If I had the traditions of a deranged doodle bug, I’d go around
hunting trouble in a country that is full of it for foreigners—even
those who behave themselves like sane human beings.”
“Meaning, perhaps, that I’m not a sane human being?” inquired the
Southerner.
“Do you think you act like it? To satisfy your own petty vanity of
courage, you’d involve all of us in difficulties of which you know
nothing. We’re living over a powder magazine here, and you want to
light matches to show what a hero you are. Traditions! Don’t you talk
to me about traditions! If you can serve your country or a woman better
by running away than by fighting, the sensible thing to do is to run
away. The best thing you can do is to keep quiet and let Von Plaanden
drop. Otherwise, you’ll have Miss Brewster the center of—”
“Keep your tongue from that lady’s name!” warned Carroll.
“You’re giving a good many orders,” said the other slowly. “But I’ll do
almost anything just now to keep you peaceable, and to convince you
that you must let Von Plaanden strictly alone.”
“Just as surely as I meet him,” said the Southerner ominously, “on my
word of honor—”
“Wait a moment,” broke in the other sharply. “Don’t commit yourself
until you’ve heard me. Just around the corner from here is a _cuartel_.
It isn’t a nice clean jail like ours at home. Fleas are the pleasantest
companions in the place. When a man—particularly an obnoxious
foreigner—lands there, they are rather more than likely to forget
little incidentals like food and water. And if he should happen to be
of a nation without diplomatic representation here, as is the case with
the United States at present, he might well lie there _incomunicado_
until his hearing, which might be in two days or might not be for a
month. Is that correct, Mr. Raimonda?”
“Essentially,” confirmed the Caracuñan.
“When you are through trying to frighten me—” began Carroll
contemptuously.
“Frighten you? I’m not so foolish as to waste time that way. I’m trying
to warn you.”
“Are you quite done?”
“I am not. On _my_ honor—” He broke off as Carroll smiled. “Smile if
you like, but believe what I’m telling you. Unless you agree to keep
your hands and tongue off Von Plaanden I’ll lay an information which
will land you in the _cuartel_ within an hour.”
The smile froze on the Southerner’s lips.
“Could he do that?” he asked Raimonda.
“I’m afraid he could. And, really, Mr. Carroll, he’s correct in
principle. In the present state of political feeling, an assault by an
American upon the representative of Hochwald might seriously endanger
all of your party.”
“That’s right,” Cluff supported him. “I’m with you in wanting to break
that gold-frilled geezer’s face up into small sections, but it just
won’t do.”
With an effort, Carroll recovered his self-control.
“Mr. Raimonda,” he said courteously, “I give _you_ my word that there
will be no trouble between Herr Von Plaanden and myself, of my seeking,
until Mr. and Miss Brewster are safely out of the country.”
“That’s enough,” said Cluff heartily. “The rest of us can take care of
ourselves.”
“Meantime,” said Raimonda, “I think the whole matter can be arranged.
Von Plaanden shall apologize to Miss Brewster to-morrow. It is not his
first outbreak, and always he regrets. My uncle, who is of the Foreign
Office, will see to it.”
“Then that’s settled,” remarked Perkins cheerfully.