Soldiers of Fortune, Page 2

  II

  A year before Mrs. Porter's dinner a tramp steamer on her way to thecapital of Brazil had steered so close to the shores of Olancho thather solitary passenger could look into the caverns the waves hadtunnelled in the limestone cliffs along the coast. The solitarypassenger was Robert Clay, and he made a guess that the white palisadeswhich fringed the base of the mountains along the shore had been forcedup above the level of the sea many years before by some volcanicaction. Olancho, as many people know, is situated on the northeasterncoast of South America, and its shores are washed by the mainequatorial current. From the deck of a passing vessel you can obtainbut little idea of Olancho or of the abundance and tropical beautywhich lies hidden away behind the rampart of mountains on her shore.You can see only their desolate dark-green front, and the white cavesat their base, into which the waves rush with an echoing roar, and inand out of which fly continually thousands of frightened bats.

  The mining engineer on the rail of the tramp steamer observed thispeculiar formation of the coast with listless interest, until he noted,when the vessel stood some thirty miles north of the harbor ofValencia, that the limestone formation had disappeared, and that thewaves now beat against the base of the mountains themselves. Therewere five of these mountains which jutted out into the ocean, and theysuggested roughly the five knuckles of a giant hand clenched and lyingflat upon the surface of the water. They extended for seven miles, andthen the caverns in the palisades began again and continued on down thecoast to the great cliffs that guard the harbor of Olancho's capital.

  "The waves tunnelled their way easily enough until they ran up againstthose five mountains," mused the engineer, "and then they had to fallback." He walked to the captain's cabin and asked to look at a map ofthe coast line. "I believe I won't go to Rio," he said later in theday; "I think I will drop off here at Valencia."

  So he left the tramp steamer at that place and disappeared into theinterior with an ox-cart and a couple of pack-mules, and returned towrite a lengthy letter from the Consul's office to a Mr. Langham in theUnited States, knowing he was largely interested in mines and inmining. "There are five mountains filled with ore," Clay wrote, "whichshould be extracted by open-faced workings. I saw great masses of redhematite lying exposed on the side of the mountain, only waiting a pickand shovel, and at one place there were five thousand tons in plainsight. I should call the stuff first-class Bessemer ore, running aboutsixty-three per cent metallic iron. The people know it is there, buthave no knowledge of its value, and are too lazy to ever work itthemselves. As to transportation, it would only be necessary to run afreight railroad twenty miles along the sea-coast to the harbor ofValencia and dump your ore from your own pier into your own vessels.It would not, I think, be possible to ship direct from the minesthemselves, even though, as I say, the ore runs right down into thewater, because there is no place at which it would be safe for a largevessel to touch. I will look into the political side of it and seewhat sort of a concession I can get for you. I should think ten percent of the output would satisfy them, and they would, of course, admitmachinery and plant free of duty."

  Six months after this communication had arrived in New York City, theValencia Mining Company was formally incorporated, and a man named VanAntwerp, with two hundred workmen and a half-dozen assistants, was sentSouth to lay out the freight railroad, to erect the dumping-pier, andto strip the five mountains of their forests and underbrush. It wasnot a task for a holiday, but a stern, difficult, and perplexingproblem, and Van Antwerp was not quite the man to solve it. He wasstubborn, self-confident, and indifferent by turns. He did not dependupon his lieutenants, but jealously guarded his own opinions from theleast question or discussion, and at every step he antagonized theeasy-going people among whom he had come to work. He had no patiencewith their habits of procrastination, and he was continually offendingtheir lazy good-nature and their pride. He treated the rich planters,who owned the land between the mines and the harbor over which thefreight railroad must run, with as little consideration as he showedthe regiment of soldiers which the Government had farmed out to thecompany to serve as laborers in the mines. Six months after VanAntwerp had taken charge at Valencia, Clay, who had finished therailroad in Mexico, of which King had spoken, was asked by telegraph toundertake the work of getting the ore out of the mountains he haddiscovered, and shipping it North. He accepted the offer and was giventhe title of General Manager and Resident Director, and an enormoussalary, and was also given to understand that the rough work ofpreparation had been accomplished, and that the more important serviceof picking up the five mountains and putting them in fragments intotramp steamers would continue under his direction. He had a letter ofrecall for Van Antwerp, and a letter of introduction to the Minister ofMines and Agriculture. Further than that he knew nothing of the workbefore him, but he concluded, from the fact that he had been paid thealmost prohibitive sum he had asked for his services, that it must beimportant, or that he had reached that place in his career when hecould stop actual work and live easily, as an expert, on the work ofothers.

  Clay rolled along the coast from Valencia to the mines in apaddle-wheeled steamer that had served its usefulness on theMississippi, and which had been rotting at the levees in New Orleans,when Van Antwerp had chartered it to carry tools and machinery to themines and to serve as a private launch for himself. It was a choiceeither of this steamer and landing in a small boat, or riding along theline of the unfinished railroad on horseback. Either route consumedsix valuable hours, and Clay, who was anxious to see his new field ofaction, beat impatiently upon the rail of the rolling tub as itwallowed in the sea.

  He spent the first three days after his arrival at the mines in themountains, climbing them on foot and skirting their base on horseback,and sleeping where night overtook him. Van Antwerp did not accompanyhim on his tour of inspection through the mines, but delegated thatduty to an engineer named MacWilliams, and to Weimer, the United StatesConsul at Valencia, who had served the company in many ways and who wasin its closest confidence.

  For three days the men toiled heavily over fallen trunks and trees,slippery with the moss of centuries, or slid backward on the rollingstones in the waterways, or clung to their ponies' backs to dodge thehanging creepers. At times for hours together they walked in singlefile, bent nearly double, and seeing nothing before them but theshining backs and shoulders of the negroes who hacked out the way forthem to go. And again they would come suddenly upon a precipice, anddrink in the soft cool breath of the ocean, and look down thousands offeet upon the impenetrable green under which they had been crawling,out to where it met the sparkling surface of the Caribbean Sea. It wasthree days of unceasing activity while the sun shone, and of anxiousquestionings around the camp-fire when the darkness fell, and whenthere were no sounds on the mountain-side but that of falling water ina distant ravine or the calls of the night-birds.

  On the morning of the fourth day Clay and his attendants returned tocamp and rode to where the men had just begun to blast away the slopingsurface of the mountain.

  As Clay passed between the zinc sheds and palm huts of thesoldier-workmen, they came running out to meet him, and one, who seemedto be a leader, touched his bridle, and with his straw sombrero in hishand begged for a word with el Senor the Director.

  The news of Clay's return had reached the opening, and the throb of thedummy-engines and the roar of the blasting ceased as theassistant-engineers came down the valley to greet the new manager.They found him seated on his horse gazing ahead of him, and listeningto the story of the soldier, whose fingers, as he spoke, trembled inthe air, with all the grace and passion of his Southern nature, whileback of him his companions stood humbly, in a silent chorus, witheager, supplicating eyes. Clay answered the man's speech curtly, witha few short words, in the Spanish patois in which he had beenaddressed, and then turned and smiled grimly upon the expectant groupof engineers. He kept them waiting for some short space, while helooked them over carefully,
as though he had never seen them before.

  "Well, gentlemen," he said, "I'm glad to have you here all together. Iam only sorry you didn't come in time to hear what this fellow has hadto say. I don't as a rule listen that long to complaints, but he toldme what I have seen for myself and what has been told me by others. Ihave been here three days now, and I assure you, gentlemen, that myeasiest course would be to pack up my things and go home on the nextsteamer. I was sent down here to take charge of a mine in activeoperation, and I find--what? I find that in six months you have donealmost nothing, and that the little you have condescended to do hasbeen done so badly that it will have to be done over again; that youhave not only wasted a half year of time--and I can't tell how muchmoney--but that you have succeeded in antagonizing all the people onwhose good-will we are absolutely dependent; you have allowed yourmachinery to rust in the rain, and your workmen to rot with sickness.You have not only done nothing, but you haven't a blue print to show mewhat you meant to do. I have never in my life come across laziness andmismanagement and incompetency upon such a magnificent and recklessscale. You have not built the pier, you have not opened the freightroad, you have not taken out an ounce of ore. You know more ofValencia than you know of these mines; you know it from the Alameda tothe Canal. You can tell me what night the band plays in the Plaza, butyou can't give me the elevation of one of these hills. You have spentyour days on the pavements in front of cafes, and your nights indance-halls, and you have been drawing salaries every month. I've morerespect for these half-breeds that you've allowed to starve in thisfever-bed than I have for you. You have treated them worse than they'dtreat a dog, and if any of them die, it's on your heads. You have putthem in a fever-camp which you have not even taken the trouble todrain. Your commissariat is rotten, and you have let them drink allthe rum they wanted. There is not one of you--"

  The group of silent men broke, and one of them stepped forward andshook his forefinger at Clay.

  "No man can talk to me like that," he said, warningly, "and think I'llwork under him. I resign here and now."

  "You what--" cried Clay, "you resign?"

  He whirled his horse round with a dig of his spur and faced them.

  "How dare you talk of resigning? I'll pack the whole lot of you backto New York on the first steamer, if I want to, and I'll give you suchcharacters that you'll be glad to get a job carrying a transit. You'rein no position to talk of resigning yet--not one of you. Yes," headded, interrupting himself, "one of you is MacWilliams, the man whohad charge of the railroad. It's no fault of his that the road's notworking. I understand that he couldn't get the right of way from thepeople who owned the land, but I have seen what he has done, and hisplans, and I apologize to him--to MacWilliams. As for the rest of you,I'll give you a month's trial. It will be a month before the nextsteamer could get here anyway, and I'll give you that long to redeemyourselves. At the end of that time we will have another talk, but youare here now only on your good behavior and on my sufferance.Good-morning."

  As Clay had boasted, he was not the man to throw up his positionbecause he found the part he had to play was not that of leading man,but rather one of general utility, and although it had been severalyears since it had been part of his duties to oversee the setting up ofmachinery, and the policing of a mining camp, he threw himself asearnestly into the work before him as though to show his subordinatesthat it did not matter who did the work, so long as it was done. Themen at first were sulky, resentful, and suspicious, but they could notlong resist the fact that Clay was doing the work of five men and fivedifferent kinds of work, not only without grumbling, but apparentlywith the keenest pleasure.

  He conciliated the rich coffee planters who owned the land which hewanted for the freight road by calls of the most formal state anddinners of much less formality, for he saw that the iron mine had itssocial as well as its political side. And with this fact in mind, heopened the railroad with great ceremony, and much music and feasting,and the first piece of ore taken out of the mine was presented to thewife of the Minister of the Interior in a cluster of diamonds, whichmade the wives of the other members of the Cabinet regret that theirhusbands had not chosen that portfolio. Six months followed of hard,unremitting work, during which time the great pier grew out into thebay from MacWilliams' railroad, and the face of the first mountain wasscarred and torn of its green, and left in mangled nakedness, while theringing of hammers and picks, and the racking blasts of dynamite, andthe warning whistles of the dummy-engines drove away the accumulatedsilence of centuries.

  It had been a long uphill fight, and Clay had enjoyed it mightily. Twounexpected events had contributed to help it. One was the arrival inValencia of young Teddy Langham, who came ostensibly to learn theprofession of which Clay was so conspicuous an example, and in realityto watch over his father's interests. He was put at Clay's elbow, andClay made him learn in spite of himself, for he ruled him andMacWilliams of both of whom he was very fond, as though, so theycomplained, they were the laziest and the most rebellious members ofhis entire staff. The second event of importance was the announcementmade one day by young Langham that his father's physician had orderedrest in a mild climate, and that he and his daughters were coming in amonth to spend the winter in Valencia, and to see how the son and heirhad developed as a man of business.

  The idea of Mr. Langham's coming to visit Olancho to inspect his newpossessions was not a surprise to Clay. It had occurred to him aspossible before, especially after the son had come to join them there.The place was interesting and beautiful enough in itself to justify avisit, and it was only a ten days' voyage from New York. But he hadnever considered the chance of Miss Langham's coming, and when that wasnow not only possible but a certainty, he dreamed of little else. Helived as earnestly and toiled as indefatigably as before, but the placewas utterly transformed for him. He saw it now as she would see itwhen she came, even while at the same time his own eyes retained theirpoint of view. It was as though he had lengthened the focus of aglass, and looked beyond at what was beautiful and picturesque, insteadof what was near at hand and practicable. He found himself smilingwith anticipation of her pleasure in the orchids hanging from the deadtrees, high above the opening of the mine, and in the parrots hurlingthemselves like gayly colored missiles among the vines; and heconsidered the harbor at night with its colored lamps floating on theblack water as a scene set for her eyes. He planned the dinners thathe would give in her honor on the balcony of the great restaurant inthe Plaza on those nights when the band played, and the senoritascircled in long lines between admiring rows of officers and caballeros.And he imagined how, when the ore-boats had been filled and his workhad slackened, he would be free to ride with her along the roughmountain roads, between magnificent pillars of royal palms, or toventure forth in excursions down the bay, to explore the caves and tolunch on board the rolling paddle-wheel steamer, which he would have repainted and gilded for her coming. He pictured himself acting as herguide over the great mines, answering her simple questions about thestrange machinery, and the crew of workmen, and the local government bywhich he ruled two thousand men. It was not on account of any personalpride in the mines that he wanted her to see them, it was not becausehe had discovered and planned and opened them that he wished to showthem to her, but as a curious spectacle that he hoped would give her amoment's interest.

  But his keenest pleasure was when young Langham suggested that theyshould build a house for his people on the edge of the hill that juttedout over the harbor and the great ore pier. If this were done, Langhamurged, it would be possible for him to see much more of his family thanhe would be able to do were they installed in the city, five miles away.

  "We can still live in the office at this end of the railroad," the boysaid, "and then we shall have them within call at night when we getback from work; but if they are in Valencia, it will take the greaterpart of the evening going there and all of the night getting back, forI can't pass that club under three hou
rs. It will keep us out oftemptation."

  "Yes, exactly," said Clay, with a guilty smile, "it will keep us out oftemptation."

  So they cleared away the underbrush, and put a double force of men towork on what was to be the most beautiful and comfortable bungalow onthe edge of the harbor. It had blue and green and white tiles on thefloors, and walls of bamboo, and a red roof of curved tiles to let inthe air, and dragons' heads for water-spouts, and verandas as broad asthe house itself. There was an open court in the middle hung withbalconies looking down upon a splashing fountain, and to decorate thispatio, they levied upon people for miles around for tropical plants andcolored mats and awnings. They cut down the trees that hid the view ofthe long harbor leading from the sea into Valencia, and planted arampart of other trees to hide the iron-ore pier, and they sodded theraw spots where the men had been building, until the place was ascompletely transformed as though a fairy had waved her wand above it.

  It was to be a great surprise, and they were all--Clay, MacWilliams,and Langham--as keenly interested in it as though each were preparingit for his honeymoon. They would be walking together in Valencia whenone would say, "We ought to have that for the house," and withoutquestion they would march into the shop together and order whateverthey fancied to be sent out to the house of the president of the mineson the hill. They stocked it with wine and linens, and hired a volanteand six horses, and fitted out the driver with a new pair of boots thatreached above his knees, and a silver jacket and a sombrero that was soheavy with braid that it flashed like a halo about his head in thesunlight, and he was ordered not to wear it until the ladies came,under penalty of arrest. It delighted Clay to find that it was onlythe beautiful things and the fine things of his daily routine thatsuggested her to him, as though she could not be associated in his mindwith anything less worthy, and he kept saying to himself, "She willlike this view from the end of the terrace," and "This will be herfavorite walk," or "She will swing her hammock here," and "I know shewill not fancy the rug that Weimer chose."

  While this fairy palace was growing the three men lived as roughly asbefore in the wooden hut at the terminus of the freight road, threehundred yards below the house, and hidden from it by an impenetrablerampart of brush and Spanish bayonet. There was a rough road leadingfrom it to the city, five miles away, which they had extended stillfarther up the hill to the Palms, which was the name Langham hadselected for his father's house. And when it was finally finished,they continued to live under the corrugated zinc roof of their officebuilding, and locking up the Palms, left it in charge of a gardener anda watchman until the coming of its rightful owners.

  It had been a viciously hot, close day, and even now the air came insickening waves, like a blast from the engine-room of a steamer, andthe heat lightning played round the mountains over the harbor andshowed the empty wharves, and the black outlines of the steamers, andthe white front of the Custom-House, and the long half-circle oftwinkling lamps along the quay. MacWilliams and Langham sat panting onthe lower steps of the office-porch considering whether they were toolazy to clean themselves and be rowed over to the city, where, as itwas Sunday night, was promised much entertainment. They had been forthe last hour trying to make up their minds as to this, and appealingto Clay to stop work and decide for them. But he sat inside at a tablefiguring and writing under the green shade of a student's lamp and madeno answer. The walls of Clay's office were of unplaned boards,bristling with splinters, and hung with blue prints and outline maps ofthe mine. A gaudily colored portrait of Madame la Presidenta, thenoble and beautiful woman whom Alvarez, the President of Olancho, hadlately married in Spain, was pinned to the wall above the table. Thistable, with its green oil-cloth top, and the lamp, about which wingedinsects beat noisily, and an earthen water-jar--from which the waterdripped as regularly as the ticking of a clock--were the only articlesof furniture in the office. On a shelf at one side of the door lay themen's machetes, a belt of cartridges, and a revolver in a holster.

  Clay rose from the table and stood in the light of the open door,stretching himself gingerly, for his joints were sore and stiff withfording streams and climbing the surfaces of rocks. The red ore andyellow mud of the mines were plastered over his boots andriding-breeches, where he had stood knee-deep in the water, and hisshirt stuck to him like a wet bathing-suit, showing his ribs when hebreathed and the curves of his broad chest. A ring of burning paperand hot ashes fell from his cigarette to his breast and burnt a holethrough the cotton shirt, and he let it lie there and watched it burnwith a grim smile.

  "I wanted to see," he explained, catching the look of listlesscuriosity in MacWilliams's eye, "whether there was anything hotter thanmy blood. It's racing around like boiling water in a pot."

  "Listen," said Langham, holding up his hand. "There goes the call forprayers in the convent, and now it's too late to go to town. I amglad, rather. I'm too tired to keep awake, and besides, they don'tknow how to amuse themselves in a civilized way--at least not in myway. I wish I could just drop in at home about now; don't you,MacWilliams? Just about this time up in God's country all the peopleare at the theatre, or they've just finished dinner and are sittingaround sipping cool green mint, trickling through little lumps of ice.What I'd like--" he stopped and shut one eye and gazed, with his headon one side, at the unimaginative MacWilliams--"what I'd like to donow," he continued, thoughtfully, "would be to sit in the front row ata comic opera, ON THE AISLE. The prima donna must be very, verybeautiful, and sing most of her songs at me, and there must be threecomedians, all good, and a chorus entirely composed of girls. I nevercould see why they have men in the chorus, anyway. No one ever looksat them. Now that's where I'd like to be. What would you like,MacWilliams?"

  MacWilliams was a type with which Clay was intimately familiar, but tothe college-bred Langham he was a revelation and a joy. He came fromsome little town in the West, and had learned what he knew ofengineering at the transit's mouth, after he had first served hisapprenticeship by cutting sage-brush and driving stakes. His life hadbeen spent in Mexico and Central America, and he spoke of the home hehad not seen in ten years with the aggressive loyalty of the confirmedwanderer, and he was known to prefer and to import canned corn andcanned tomatoes in preference to eating the wonderful fruits of thecountry, because the former came from the States and tasted to him ofhome. He had crowded into his young life experiences that would haveshattered the nerves of any other man with a more sensitive conscienceand a less happy sense of humor; but these same experiences had onlyserved to make him shrewd and self-confident and at his ease when theoccasion or difficulty came.

  He pulled meditatively on his pipe and considered Langham's questiondeeply, while Clay and the younger boy sat with their arms upon theirknees and waited for his decision in thoughtful silence.

  "I'd like to go to the theatre, too," said MacWilliams, with an air asthough to show that he also was possessed of artistic tastes. "I'dlike to see a comical chap I saw once in '80--oh, long ago--before Ijoined the P. Q. & M. He WAS funny. His name was Owens; that was hisname, John E. Owens--"

  "Oh, for heaven's sake, MacWilliams," protested Langham, in dismay;"he's been dead for five years."

  "Has he?" said MacWilliams, thoughtfully. "Well--" he concluded,unabashed, "I can't help that, he's the one I'd like to see best."

  "You can have another wish, Mac, you know," urged Langham, "can't he,Clay?"

  Clay nodded gravely, and MacWilliams frowned again in thought. "No," hesaid after an effort, "Owens, John E. Owens; that's the one I want tosee."

  "Well, now I want another wish, too," said Langham. "I move we caneach have two wishes. I wish--"

  "Wait until I've had mine," said Clay. "You've had one turn. I want tobe in a place I know in Vienna. It's not hot like this, but cool andfresh. It's an open, out-of-door concert-garden, with hundreds ofcolored lights and trees, and there's always a breeze coming through.And Eduard Strauss, the son, you know, leads the orchestra there, andthey play nothing
but waltzes, and he stands in front of them, andbegins by raising himself on his toes, and then he lifts his shouldersgently--and then sinks back again and raises his baton as though hewere drawing the music out after it, and the whole place seems to rockand move. It's like being picked up and carried on the deck of a yachtover great waves; and all around you are the beautiful Viennese womenand those tall Austrian officers in their long, blue coats and flathats and silver swords. And there are cool drinks--" continued Clay,with his eyes fixed on the coming storm--"all sorts of cool drinks--inhigh, thin glasses, full of ice, all the ice you want--"

  "Oh, drop it, will you?" cried Langham, with a shrug of his dampshoulders. "I can't stand it. I'm parching."

  "Wait a minute," interrupted MacWilliams, leaning forward and lookinginto the night. "Some one's coming." There was a sound down the roadof hoofs and the rattle of the land-crabs as they scrambled off intothe bushes, and two men on horseback came suddenly out of the darknessand drew rein in the light from the open door. The first was GeneralMendoza, the leader of the Opposition in the Senate, and the other, hisorderly. The General dropped his Panama hat to his knee and bowed inthe saddle three times.

  "Good-evening, your Excellency," said Clay, rising. "Tell that peon toget my coat, will you?" he added, turning to Langham. Langham clappedhis hands, and the clanging of a guitar ceased, and their servant andcook came out from the back of the hut and held the General's horsewhile he dismounted. "Wait until I get you a chair," said Clay."You'll find those steps rather bad for white duck."

  "I am fortunate in finding you at home," said the officer, smiling, andshowing his white teeth. "The telephone is not working. I tried atthe club, but I could not call you."

  "It's the storm, I suppose," Clay answered, as he struggled into hisjacket. "Let me offer you something to drink." He entered the house,and returned with several bottles on a tray and a bundle of cigars.The Spanish-American poured himself out a glass of water, mixing itwith Jamaica rum, and said, smiling again, "It is a saying of yourcountrymen that when a man first comes to Olancho he puts a little ruminto his water, and that when he is here some time he puts a littlewater in his rum."

  "Yes," laughed Clay. "I'm afraid that's true."

  There was a pause while the men sipped at their glasses, and looked atthe horses and the orderly. The clanging of the guitar began againfrom the kitchen. "You have a very beautiful view here of the harbor,yes," said Mendoza. He seemed to enjoy the pause after his ride, andto be in no haste to begin on the object of his errand. MacWilliamsand Langham eyed each other covertly, and Clay examined the end of hiscigar, and they all waited.

  "And how are the mines progressing, eh?" asked the officer, genially."You find much good iron in them, they tell me."

  "Yes, we are doing very well," Clay assented; "it was difficult atfirst, but now that things are in working order, we are getting outabout ten thousand tons a month. We hope to increase that soon totwenty thousand when the new openings are developed and our shippingfacilities are in better shape."

  "So much!" exclaimed the General, pleasantly.

  "Of which the Government of my country is to get its share of ten percent--one thousand tons! It is munificent!" He laughed and shook hishead slyly at Clay, who smiled in dissent.

  "But you see, sir," said Clay, "you cannot blame us. The mines havealways been there, before this Government came in, before the Spaniardswere here, before there was any Government at all, but there was notthe capital to open them up, I suppose, or--and it needed a certainenergy to begin the attack. Your people let the chance go, and, as itturned out, I think they were very wise in doing so. They get ten percent of the output. That's ten per cent on nothing, for the minesreally didn't exist, as far as you were concerned, until we came, didthey? They were just so much waste land, and they would have remainedso. And look at the price we paid down before we cut a tree. Threemillions of dollars; that's a good deal of money. It will be some timebefore we realize anything on that investment."

  Mendoza shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "I will be frankwith you," he said, with the air of one to whom dissimulation isdifficult. "I come here to-night on an unpleasant errand, but it iswith me a matter of duty, and I am a soldier, to whom duty is theforemost ever. I have come to tell you, Mr. Clay, that we, theOpposition, are not satisfied with the manner in which the Governmenthas disposed of these great iron deposits. When I say not satisfied,my dear friend, I speak most moderately. I should say that we aresurprised and indignant, and we are determined the wrong it has doneour country shall be righted. I have the honor to have been chosen tospeak for our party on this most important question, and on nextTuesday, sir," the General stood up and bowed, as though he were beforea great assembly, "I will rise in the Senate and move a vote of want ofconfidence in the Government for the manner in which it has given awaythe richest possessions in the storehouse of my country, giving it notonly to aliens, but for a pittance, for a share which is not a share,but a bribe, to blind the eyes of the people. It has been a shamefulbargain, and I cannot say who is to blame; I accuse no one. But Isuspect, and I will demand an investigation; I will demand that thevalue not of one-tenth, but of one-half of all the iron that yourcompany takes out of Olancho shall be paid into the treasury of theState. And I come to you to-night, as the Resident Director, to informyou beforehand of my intention. I do not wish to take you unprepared.I do not blame your people; they are business men, they know how tomake good bargains, they get what they best can. That is the rule oftrade, but they have gone too far, and I advise you to communicate withyour people in New York and learn what they are prepared to offernow--now that they have to deal with men who do not consider their owninterests but the interests of their country."

  Mendoza made a sweeping bow and seated himself, frowning dramatically,with folded arms. His voice still hung in the air, for he had spokenas earnestly as though he imagined himself already standing in the hallof the Senate championing the cause of the people.

  MacWilliams looked up at Clay from where he sat on the steps below him,but Clay did not notice him, and there was no sound, except the quicksputtering of the nicotine in Langham's pipe, at which he pulledquickly, and which was the only outward sign the boy gave of hisinterest. Clay shifted one muddy boot over the other and leaned backwith his hands stuck in his belt.

  "Why didn't you speak of this sooner?" he asked.

  "Ah, yes, that is fair," said the General, quickly. "I know that it islate, and I regret it, and I see that we cause you inconvenience; buthow could I speak sooner when I was ignorant of what was going on? Ihave been away with my troops. I am a soldier first, a politicianafter. During the last year I have been engaged in guarding thefrontier. No news comes to a General in the field moving from camp tocamp and always in the saddle; but I may venture to hope, sir, thatnews has come to you of me?"

  Clay pressed his lips together and bowed his head.

  "We have heard of your victories, General, yes," he said; "and on yourreturn you say you found things had not been going to your liking?"

  "That is it," assented the other, eagerly. "I find that indignationreigns on every side. I find my friends complaining of the railroadwhich you run across their land. I find that fifteen hundred soldiersare turned into laborers, with picks and spades, working by the side ofnegroes and your Irish; they have not been paid their wages, and theyhave been fed worse than though they were on the march; sickness and--"

  Clay moved impatiently and dropped his boot heavily on the porch.

  "That was true at first," he interrupted, "but it is not so now. Ishould be glad, General, to take you over the men's quarters at anytime. As for their not having been paid, they were never paid by theirown Government before they came to us and for the same reason, becausethe petty officers kept back the money, just as they have always done.But the men are paid now. However, this is not of the most importance.Who is it that complains of the terms of our concession?"

 
"Every one!" exclaimed Mendoza, throwing out his arms, "and they ask,moreover, this: they ask why, if this mine is so rich, why was not thestock offered here to us in this country? Why was it not put on themarket, that any one might buy? We have rich men in Olancho, whyshould not they benefit first of all others by the wealth of their ownlands? But no! we are not asked to buy. All the stock is taken in NewYork, no one benefits but the State, and it receives only ten per cent.It is monstrous!"

  "I see," said Clay, gravely. "That had not occurred to me before.They feel they have been slighted. I see." He paused for a moment asif in serious consideration. "Well," he added, "that might bearranged."

  He turned and jerked his head toward the open door. "If you boys meanto go to town to-night, you'd better be moving," he said. The two menrose together and bowed silently to their guest.

  "I should like if Mr. Langham would remain a moment with us," saidMendoza, politely. "I understand that it is his father who controlsthe stock of the company. If we discuss any arrangement it might bewell if he were here."

  Clay was sitting with his chin on his breast, and he did not look up,nor did the young man turn to him for any prompting. "I'm not downhere as my father's son," he said, "I am an employee of Mr. Clay's. Herepresents the company. Good-night, sir."

  "You think, then," said Clay, "that if your friends were given anopportunity to subscribe to the stock they would feel less resentfultoward us? They would think it was fairer to all?"

  "I know it," said Mendoza; "why should the stock go out of the countrywhen those living here are able to buy it?"

  "Exactly," said Clay, "of course. Can you tell me this, General? Arethe gentlemen who want to buy stock in the mine the same men who are inthe Senate? The men who are objecting to the terms of our concession?"

  "With a few exceptions they are the same men."

  Clay looked out over the harbor at the lights of the town, and theGeneral twirled his hat around his knee and gazed with appreciation atthe stars above him.

  "Because if they are," Clay continued, "and they succeed in getting ourshare cut down from ninety per cent to fifty per cent, they must seethat the stock would be worth just forty per cent less than it is now."

  "That is true," assented the other. "I have thought of that, and ifthe Senators in Opposition were given a chance to subscribe, I am surethey would see that it is better wisdom to drop their objections to theconcession, and as stockholders allow you to keep ninety per cent ofthe output. And, again," continued Mendoza, "it is really better forthe country that the money should go to its people than that it shouldbe stored up in the vaults of the treasury, when there is always thedanger that the President will seize it; or, if not this one, the nextone."

  "I should think--that is--it seems to me," said Clay with carefulconsideration, "that your Excellency might be able to render us greathelp in this matter yourself. We need a friend among the Opposition.In fact--I see where you could assist us in many ways, where yourservices would be strictly in the line of your public duty and yetbenefit us very much. Of course I cannot speak authoritatively withoutfirst consulting Mr. Langham; but I should think he would allow youpersonally to purchase as large a block of the stock as you could wish,either to keep yourself or to resell and distribute among those of yourfriends in Opposition where it would do the most good."

  Clay looked over inquiringly to where Mendoza sat in the light of theopen door, and the General smiled faintly, and emitted a pleased littlesigh of relief. "Indeed," continued Clay, "I should think Mr. Langhammight even save you the formality of purchasing the stock outright bysending you its money equivalent. I beg your pardon," he asked,interrupting himself, "does your orderly understand English?"

  "He does not," the General assured him, eagerly, dragging his chair alittle closer.

  "Suppose now that Mr. Langham were to put fifty or let us say sixtythousand dollars to your account in the Valencia Bank, do you thinkthis vote of want of confidence in the Government on the question ofour concession would still be moved?"

  "I am sure it would not," exclaimed the leader of the Opposition,nodding his head violently.

  "Sixty thousand dollars," repeated Clay, slowly, "for yourself; and doyou think, General, that were you paid that sum you would be able tocall off your friends, or would they make a demand for stock also?"

  "Have no anxiety at all, they do just what I say," returned Mendoza, inan eager whisper. "If I say 'It is all right, I am satisfied with whatthe Government has done in my absence,' it is enough. And I will sayit, I give you the word of a soldier, I will say it. I will not move avote of want of confidence on Tuesday. You need go no farther thanmyself. I am glad that I am powerful enough to serve you, and if youdoubt me"--he struck his heart and bowed with a deprecatory smile--"youneed not pay in the money in exchange for the stock all at the sametime. You can pay ten thousand this year, and next year ten thousandmore and so on, and so feel confident that I shall have the interestsof the mine always in my heart. Who knows what may not happen in ayear? I may be able to serve you even more. Who knows how long thepresent Government will last? But I give you my word of honor, nomatter whether I be in Opposition or at the head of the Government, ifI receive every six months the retaining fee of which you speak, I willbe your representative. And my friends can do nothing. I despisethem. _I_ am the Opposition. You have done well, my dear sir, toconsider me alone."

  Clay turned in his chair and looked back of him through the office tothe room beyond.

  "Boys," he called, "you can come out now."

  He rose and pushed his chair away and beckoned to the orderly who satin the saddle holding the General's horse. Langham and MacWilliamscame out and stood in the open door, and Mendoza rose and looked atClay.

  "You can go now," Clay said to him, quietly. "And you can rise in theSenate on Tuesday and move your vote of want of confidence and objectto our concession, and when you have resumed your seat the Secretary ofMines will rise in his turn and tell the Senate how you stole out herein the night and tried to blackmail me, and begged me to bribe you tobe silent, and that you offered to throw over your friends and to takeall that we would give you and keep it yourself. That will make youpopular with your friends, and will show the Government just what sortof a leader it has working against it."

  Clay took a step forward and shook his finger in the officer's face."Try to break that concession; try it. It was made by one Governmentto a body of honest, decent business men, with a Government of theirown back of them, and if you interfere with our conceded rights to workthose mines, I'll have a man-of-war down here with white paint on herhull, and she'll blow you and your little republic back up there intothe mountains. Now you can go."

  Mendoza had straightened with surprise when Clay first began to speak,and had then bent forward slightly as though he meant to interrupt him.His eyebrows were lowered in a straight line, and his lips movedquickly.

  "You poor--" he began, contemptuously. "Bah," he exclaimed, "you're afool; I should have sent a servant to talk with you. You are achild--but you are an insolent child," he cried, suddenly, his angerbreaking out, "and I shall punish you. You dare to call me names! Youshall fight me, you shall fight me to-morrow. You have insulted anofficer, and you shall meet me at once, to-morrow."

  "If I meet you to-morrow," Clay replied, "I will thrash you for yourimpertinence. The only reason I don't do it now is because you are onmy doorstep. You had better not meet me tomorrow, or at any othertime. And I have no leisure to fight duels with anybody."

  "You are a coward," returned the other, quietly, "and I tell you sobefore my servant."

  Clay gave a short laugh and turned to MacWilliams in the doorway.

  "Hand me my gun, MacWilliams," he said, "it's on the shelf to theright."

  MacWilliams stood still and shook his head. "Oh, let him alone," hesaid. "You've got him where you want him."

  "Give me the gun, I tell you," repeated Clay. "I'm not going to hurthim, I
'm only going to show him how I can shoot."

  MacWilliams moved grudgingly across the porch and brought back therevolver and handed it to Clay. "Look out now," he said, "it's loaded."

  At Clay's words the General had retreated hastily to his horse's headand had begun unbuckling the strap of his holster, and the orderlyreached back into the boot for his carbine. Clay told him in Spanishto throw up his hands, and the man, with a frightened look at hisofficer, did as the revolver suggested. Then Clay motioned with hisempty hand for the other to desist. "Don't do that," he said, "I'm notgoing to hurt you; I'm only going to frighten you a little."

  He turned and looked at the student lamp inside, where it stood on thetable in full view. Then he raised his revolver. He did notapparently hold it away from him by the butt, as other men do, but letit lie in the palm of his hand, into which it seemed to fit like thehand of a friend. His first shot broke the top of the glass chimney,the second shattered the green globe around it, the third put out thelight, and the next drove the lamp crashing to the floor. There was awild yell of terror from the back of the house, and the noise of aguitar falling down a flight of steps. "I have probably killed a verygood cook," said Clay, "as I should as certainly kill you, if I were tomeet you. Langham," he continued, "go tell that cook to come back."

  The General sprang into his saddle, and the altitude it gave him seemedto bring back some of the jauntiness he had lost.

  "That was very pretty," he said; "you have been a cowboy, so they tellme. It is quite evident by your manners. No matter, if we do not meetto-morrow it will be because I have more serious work to do. Twomonths from to-day there will be a new Government in Olancho and a newPresident, and the mines will have a new director. I have tried to beyour friend, Mr. Clay. See how you like me for an enemy. Goodnight,gentlemen."

  "Good-night," said MacWilliams, unmoved. "Please ask your man to closethe gate after you."

  When the sound of the hoofs had died away the men still stood in anuncomfortable silence, with Clay twirling the revolver around hismiddle finger. "I'm sorry I had to make a gallery play of that sort,"he said. "But it was the only way to make that sort of man understand."

  Langham sighed and shook his head ruefully.

  "Well," he said, "I thought all the trouble was over, but it looks tome as though it had just begun. So far as I can see they're going togive the governor a run for his money yet."

  Clay turned to MacWilliams.

  "How many of Mendoza's soldiers have we in the mines, Mac?" he asked.

  "About fifteen hundred," MacWilliams answered. "But you ought to hearthe way they talk of him."

  "They do, eh?" said Clay, with a smile of satisfaction. "That's good.'Six hundred slaves who hate their masters.' What do they say about me?"

  "Oh, they think you're all right. They know you got them their pay andall that. They'd do a lot for you."

  "Would they fight for me?" asked Clay.

  MacWilliams looked up and laughed uneasily. "I don't know," he said."Why, old man? What do you mean to do?"

  "Oh, I don't know," Clay answered. "I was just wondering whether Ishould like to be President of Olancho."