SOLDIERS OF FORTUNE
 
 " You, Sir, \vere a great Soldier."
 
 SOLDIERS OF 
 FORTUNE 
 
 BY 
 
 RICHARD HARDING DAVIS 
 
 With Illustrations by C. D. Gibson 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER S SONS 
 NEW YORK:::::;:::::::::::i 9 o4
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1897, BY 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER S SONS
 
 Stack 
 AnMK 
 
 tro 
 
 IRENE AND DANA GIBSON
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 "You, Sir, were a great soldier" .... Frontispiece 
 
 FACING 
 PAGE 
 
 "Now you can go" 60 
 
 "They don t even know Tommy Atkins " ... 90 
 
 Langham shoved his face down between his knees into 
 
 the sand 230 
 
 He strode on up the stairs 260 
 
 Over there is the Coast of Africa" 344
 
 SOLDIERS OF FORTUNE 
 
 *TT is so good of you to come early," said Mrs. 
 JL Porter, as Alice Langham entered the draw 
 ing-room. "I want to ask a favor of you. I m 
 sure you won t mind. I would ask one of the 
 debutantes, except that they re always so cross if 
 one puts them next to men they don t know and 
 who can t help them, and so I thought I d just 
 ask you, you re so good-natured. You don t mind, 
 do you?" 
 
 "I mind being called good-natured," said Miss 
 Langham, smiling. "Mind what, Mrs. Porter? * 
 she asked. 
 
 "He is a friend of George s," Mrs. Porter ex 
 plained, vaguely. "He s a cowboy. It seems he 
 was very civil to George when he was out there 
 shooting in New Mexico, or Old Mexico, I don t 
 remember which. He took George to his hut and 
 gave him things to shoot, and all that, and now 
 he is in New York with a letter of introduction. 
 
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 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 It s just like George. He may be a most impossi 
 ble sort of man, but, as I said to Mr. Porter, the 
 people I ve asked can t complain, because I don t 
 know anything more about him than they do. He 
 called to-day when I was out and left his card and 
 George s letter of introduction, and as a man had 
 failed me for to-night, I just thought I would kill 
 two birds with one stone, and ask him to fill his 
 place, and he s here. And, oh, yes," Mrs. Porter 
 added, "I m going to put him next to you, do you 
 mind?" 
 
 "Unless he wears leather leggings and long spurs 
 I shall mind very much," said Miss Langham. 
 
 "Well, that s very nice of you," purred Mrs. 
 Porter, as she moved away. "He may not be so 
 bad, after all; and I ll put Reginald King on your 
 other side, shall I?" she asked, pausing and glan 
 cing back. 
 
 The look on Miss Langham s face, which had 
 been one of amusement, changed consciously, and 
 she smiled with polite acquiescence. 
 
 "As you please, Mrs. Porter," she answered. 
 She raised her eyebrows slightly. "I am, as the 
 politicians say, in the hands of my friends. 
 
 "Entirely too much in the hands of my friends," 
 she repeated, as she turned away. This was the 
 twelfth time during that same winter that she and 
 Mr. King had been placed next to one another at 
 
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 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 dinner, and it had passed beyond the point when 
 she could say that it did not matter what people 
 thought as long as she and he understood. It had 
 now reached that stage when she was not quite 
 sure that she understood either him or herself. 
 They had known each other for a very long time; 
 too long, she sometimes thought, for them ever 
 to grow to know each other any better. But there 
 was always the chance that he had another side, 
 one that had not disclosed Itself, and which she 
 could not discover in the strict social environment 
 in which they both lived. And she was the surer 
 of this because she had once seen him when he 
 did not know that she was near, and he had been 
 so different that it had puzzled her and made her 
 wonder if she knew the real Reggie King at all. 
 
 It was at a dance at a studio, and some French 
 pantomimists gave a little play. When it was over, 
 King sat in the corner talking to one of the French 
 women, and while he waited on her he was laugh 
 ing at her and at her efforts to speak English. He 
 was telling her how to say certain phrases and not 
 telling her correctly, and she suspected this and 
 was accusing him of it, and they were rhapsodizing 
 and exclaiming over certain delightful places and 
 dishes of which they both knew in Paris with the 
 enthusiasm of two children. Miss Langham saw 
 him off his guard for the first time, and instead 
 
 3
 
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 of a somewhat bored and clever man of the world, 
 he appeared as sincere and interested as a boy. 
 When he joined her, later, the same evening, he 
 was as entertaining as usual, and as polite and 
 attentive as he had been to the Frenchwoman, but 
 he was not greatly interested, and his laugh was 
 modulated and not spontaneous. She had won 
 dered that night, and frequently since then, if, in 
 the event of his asking her to marry him, which 
 was possible, and of her accepting him, which was 
 also possible, whether she would find him, in the 
 closer knowledge of married life, as keen and light- 
 hearted with her as he had been with the French 
 dancer. If he would but treat her more like a 
 comrade and equal, and less like a prime minister 
 conferring with his queen ! She wanted something 
 more intimate than the deference that he showed 
 her, and she did not like his taking it as an ac 
 cepted fact that she was as worldly-wise as him 
 self, even though it were true. 
 
 She was a woman and wanted to be loved, in 
 spite of the fact that she had been loved by many 
 men at least it was so supposed and had rejected 
 them. 
 
 Each had offered her position, or had wanted 
 her because she was fitted to match his own great 
 state, or because he was ambitious, or because she 
 was rich. The man who could love her as she 
 
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 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 oncte believed men could love, and who could give 
 her something else besides approval of her beauty 
 and her mind, had not disclosed himself. She had 
 begun to think that he never would, that he did 
 not exist, that he was an imagination of the play 
 house and the novel. The men whom she knew 
 were careful to show her that they appreciated how 
 distinguished was her position, and how inaccessi 
 ble she was to them. They seemed to think that 
 by so humbling themselves, and by emphasizing 
 her position they pleased her best, when it was 
 what she wanted them to forget. Each of them 
 would draw away backward, bowing and protesting 
 that he was unworthy to raise his eyes to such a 
 prize, but that if she would only stoop to him, 
 how happy his life would be. Sometimes they 
 meant it sincerely; sometimes they were gentleman 
 ly adventurers of title, from whom it was a business 
 proposition, and in either case she turned restlessly 
 away and asked herself how long it would be be 
 fore the man would come who would pick her up on 
 his saddle and gallop off with her, with his arm 
 around her waist and his horse s hoofs clattering 
 beneath them, and echoing the tumult in their 
 hearts. 
 
 She had known too many great people in the 
 world to feel impressed with her own position at 
 home in America; but she sometimes compared 
 
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 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 herself to the Queen in "In a Balcony," and re 
 peated to herself, with mock seriousness: 
 
 " And you the marble statue all the time 
 They praise and point at as preferred to life, 
 Yet leave for the first breathing woman s cheek, 
 First dancer s, gypsy s or street balladine s! " 
 
 And if it were true, she asked herself, that the 
 man she had imagined was only an ideal and an 
 illusion, was not King the best of the others, the 
 unideal and ever-present others? Every one else 
 seemed to think so. The society they knew put 
 them constantly together and approved. Her peo 
 ple approved. Her own mind approved, and as 
 her heart was not apparently ever to be considered, 
 who could say that it did not approve as well? 
 He was certainly a very charming fellow, a manly, 
 clever companion, and one who bore about him 
 the evidences of distinction and thorough breed 
 ing. As far as family went, the Kings were as old 
 as a young country could expect, and Reggie King 
 was, moreover, In spite of his wealth, a man of 
 action and ability. His yacht journeyed from con 
 tinent to continent, and not merely up the Sound 
 to Newport, and he was as well known and wel 
 come to the consuls along the coasts of Africa and 
 South America as he was at Cowes or Nice. His 
 books of voyages were recognized by geographical 
 
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 societies and other serious bodies, who had given 
 him permission to put long disarrangements of the 
 alphabet after his name. She liked him because 
 she had grown to be at home with him, because 
 it was good to know that there was some one who 
 would not misunderstand her, and who, should she 
 so indulge herself, would not take advantage of 
 any appeal she might make to his sympathy, who 
 would always be sure to do the tactful thing and 
 the courteous thing, and who, while he might never 
 do a great thing, could not do an unkind one. 
 
 Miss Langham had entered the Porters draw 
 ing-room after the greater number of the guests had 
 arrived, and she turned from her hostess to listen 
 to an old gentleman with a passion for golf, a 
 passion in which he had for a long time been en 
 deavoring to interest her. She answered him and 
 his enthusiasm in kind, and with as much apparent 
 interest as she would have shown in a matter of 
 state. It was her principle to be all things to all 
 men, whether they were great artists, great diplo 
 mats, or great bores. If a man had been pleading 
 with her to leave the conservatory and run away 
 with him, and another had come up innocently and 
 announced that it was his dance, she would have 
 said: "Oh, is it?" with as much apparent delight 
 as though his coming had been the one bright hope 
 in her life. 
 
 7
 
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 She was growing enthusiastic over the delights 
 of golf and unconsciously making a very beautiful 
 picture of herself in her interest and forced vivac 
 ity, when she became conscious for the first time 
 of a strange young man who was standing alone 
 before the fireplace looking at her, and frankly 
 listening to all the nonsense she was talking. She 
 guessed that he had been listening for some time, 
 and she also saw, before he turned his eyes quickly 
 away, that he was distinctly amused. Miss Lang- 
 ham stopped gesticulating and lowered her voice, 
 but continued to keep her eyes on the face of the 
 stranger, whose own eyes were wandering around 
 the room, to give her, so she guessed, the idea that 
 he had not been listening, but that she had caught 
 him at it in the moment he had first looked at her. 
 He was a tall, broad-shouldered youth, with a hand 
 some face, tanned and dyed, either by the sun or 
 by exposure to the wind, to a deep ruddy brown, 
 which contrasted strangely with his yellow hair and 
 mustache, and with the pallor of the other faces 
 about him. He was a stranger apparently to every 
 one present, and his bearing suggested, in conse 
 quence, that ease of manner which comes to a per 
 son who is not only sure of himself, but who has 
 no knowledge of the claims and pretensions to so 
 cial distinction of those about him. His most at 
 tractive feature was his eyes, which seemed to ob- 
 
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 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 serve all that was going on, not only what was on 
 the surface, but beneath the surface, and that not 
 rudely or covertly but with the frank, quick look 
 of the trained observer. Miss Langham found it 
 an interesting face to watch, and she did not look 
 away from it. She was acquainted with every one 
 else in the room, and hence she knew this must be 
 the cowboy of whom Mrs. Porter had spoken, and 
 she wondered how any one who had lived the 
 rough life of the West could still retain the look 
 when in formal clothes of one who was in the 
 habit of doing informal things in them. 
 
 Mrs. Porter presented her cowboy simply as 
 "Mr. Clay, of whom I spoke to you," with a sig 
 nificant raising of the eyebrows, and the cowboy 
 made way for King, who took Miss Langham in. 
 He looked frankly pleased, however, when he 
 found himself next to her again, but did not take 
 advantage of it throughout the first part of the 
 dinner, during which time he talked to the young 
 married woman on his right, and Miss Langham 
 and King continued where they had left off at their 
 last: meeting. They knew each other well enough 
 to joke of the way in which they were thrown into 
 each other s society, and, as she said, they tried to 
 make the best of it. But while she spoke, Miss 
 Langham was continually conscious of the presence 
 of her neighbor, who piqued her interest and her 
 
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 curiosity in different ways. He seemed to be at 
 his ease, and yet from the manner in which he 
 glanced up and down the table and listened to 
 snatches of talk on either side of him he had the 
 appearance of one to whom it was all new, and 
 who was seeing it for the first time. 
 
 There was a jolly group at one end of the long 
 table, and they wished to emphasize the fact by 
 laughing a little more hysterically at their remarks 
 than the humor of those witticisms seemed to jus 
 tify. A daughter-in-law of Mrs. Porter was their 
 leader in this, and at one point she stopped in the 
 middle of a story and waving her hand at the dou 
 ble row of faces turned in her direction, which had 
 been attracted by the loudness of her voice, cried, 
 gayly, "Don t listen. This is for private circula 
 tion. It is not a jeune-fille story." The debutantes 
 at the table continued talking again in steady, even 
 tones, as though they had not heard the remark 
 or the first of the story, and the men next to them 
 appeared equally unconscious. But the cowboy, 
 Miss Langham noted out of the corner of her eye, 
 after a look of polite surprise, beamed with amuse 
 ment and continued to stare up and down the table 
 as though he had discovered a new trait in a pe 
 culiar and interesting animal. For some reason, 
 she could not tell why, she felt annoyed with 
 herself and with her friends, and resented the
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 attitude which the new-comer assumed toward 
 them. 
 
 "Mrs. Porter tells me that you know her son 
 George ?" she said. He did not answer her at once, 
 but bowed his head in assent, with a look of inter 
 rogation, as though, so it seemed to her, he had 
 expected her, when she did speak, to say something 
 less conventional. 
 
 "Yes," he replied, after a pause, "he joined us 
 at Ayutla. It was the terminus of the Jalisco and 
 Mexican Railroad then. He came out over the 
 road and went in from there with an outfit af 
 ter mountain lions. I believe he had very good 
 sport." 
 
 "That is a very wonderful road, I am told," said 
 King, bending forward and introducing himself 
 into the conversation with a nod of the head toward 
 Clay; "quite a remarkable feat of engineering." 
 
 "It will open up the country, I believe," as 
 sented the other, indifferently. 
 
 "I know something of it," continued King, "be 
 cause I met the men who were putting it through 
 at Pariqua, when we touched there in the yacht. 
 They shipped most of their plant to that port, and 
 we saw a good deal of them. They were a very 
 jolly lot, and they gave me a most interesting ac 
 count of their work and its difficulties." 
 
 Clay was looking at the other closely, as though 
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 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 .ie was trying to find something back of what he 
 was saying, but as his glance seemed only to em 
 barrass King he smiled freely again in assent, and 
 gave him his full attention. 
 
 "There are no men to-day, Miss Langham," 
 King exclaimed, suddenly, turning toward her, "to 
 my mind, who lead as picturesque lives as do civil 
 engineers. And there are no men whose work is 
 as little appreciated." 
 
 "Really?" said Miss Langham, encouragingly. 
 
 "Now those men I met," continued King, set 
 tling himself with his side to the table, "were all 
 young fellows of thirty or thereabouts, but they 
 were leading the lives of pioneers and martyrs at 
 least that s what I d call it. They were marching 
 through an almost unknown part of Mexico, fight 
 ing Nature at every step and carrying civilization 
 with them. They were doing better work than sol 
 diers, because soldiers destroy things, and these 
 chaps were creating, and making the way straight. 
 They had no banners either, nor brass bands. They 
 fought mountains and rivers, and they were at 
 tacked on every side by fever and the lack of food 
 and severe exposure. They had to sit down around 
 a camp-fire at night and calculate whether they were 
 to tunnel a mountain, or turn the bed of a river 
 or bridge it. And they knew all the time that 
 whatever they decided to do out there in the wil- 
 
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 derness meant thousands of dollars to the stock 
 holders somewhere up in God s country, who would 
 some day hold them to account for them. They 
 dragged their chains through miles and miles of 
 jungle, and over flat alkali beds and cactus, and 
 they reared bridges across roaring canons. We 
 know nothing about them and we care less. When 
 their work is done we ride over the road in an 
 observation-car and look down thousands and thou 
 sands of feet into the depths they have bridged, 
 and we never give them a thought. They are the 
 bravest soldiers of the present day, and they are 
 the least recognized. 1 have forgotten their names, 
 and you never heard them. But it seems to me the 
 civil engineer, for all that, is the chief civilizer of 
 our century." 
 
 Miss Langham was looking ahead of her with 
 her eyes half-closed, as though she were going over 
 in her mind the situation King had described. 
 
 "I never thought of that," she said. "It sounds 
 very fine. As you say, the reward is so inglorious. 
 But that is what makes it fine." 
 
 The cowboy was looking down at the table and 
 pulling at a flower in the centre-piece. He had 
 ceased to smile. Miss Langham turned on him 
 somewhat sharply, resenting his silence, and said, 
 with a slight challenge in her voice: 
 
 "Do you agree, Mr. Clay," she asked, "or do 
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 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 you prefer the chocolate-cream soldiers, in red coats 
 and gold lace?" 
 
 "Oh, I don t know," the young man answered, 
 with some slight hesitation. "It s a trade for each 
 of them. The engineer s work is all the more ab 
 sorbing, I imagine, when the difficulties are great 
 est. He has the fun of overcoming them." 
 
 "You see nothing in it then," she asked, "but 
 a source of amusement?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, a good deal more," he replied. "A 
 livelihood, for one thing. I I have been an en 
 gineer all my life. I built that road Mr. King is 
 talking about." 
 
 An hour later, when Mrs. Porter made the move 
 to go, Miss Langham rose with a protesting sigh. 
 "I am so sorry," she said, "it has been most inter 
 esting. I never met two men who had visited so 
 many inaccessible places and come out whole. You 
 have quite inspired Mr. King, he was never so 
 amusing. But I should like to hear the end of 
 that adventure; won t you tell it to me in the other 
 room?" 
 
 Clay bowed. "If I haven t thought of some 
 thing more interesting in the meantime," he said. 
 
 "What I can t understand," said King, as he 
 moved up into Miss Langham s place, "is how you 
 had time to learn so much of the rest of the world. 
 
 14
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 You don t act like a man who had spent his life 
 in the brush." 
 
 "How do you mean?" asked Clay, smiling 
 "that I don t use the wrong forks?" 
 
 "No," laughed King, "but you told us that this 
 was your first visit East, and yet you re talking 
 about England and Vienna and Voisin s. How is 
 it you ve been there, while you have never been in 
 New York?" 
 
 "Well, that s partly due to accident and partly 
 to design," Clay answered. "You see I ve worked 
 for English and German and French companies, 
 as well as for those in the States, and I go abroad 
 to make reports and to receive instructions. And 
 then I m what you call a self-made man; that is, 
 I ve never been to college. I ve always had to 
 educate myself, and whenever I did get a holiday 
 it seemed to me that I ought to put it to the best 
 advantage, and to spend it where civilization was 
 the furthest advanced advanced, at least, in years. 
 When I settle down and become an expert, and de 
 mand large sums for just looking at the work other 
 fellows have done, then I hope to live in New York, 
 but until then I go where the art galleries are big 
 gest and where they have got the science of enjoy 
 ing themselves down to the very finest point. I 
 have enough rough work eight months of the year 
 to make me appreciate that. So whenever I get 
 
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 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 a few months to myself I take the Royal Mail to 
 London, and from there to Paris or Vienna, i 
 think I like Vienna the best. The directors are 
 generally important people in their own cities, and 
 they ask one about, and so, though I hope 1 am 
 a good American, it happens that I ve more friends 
 on the Continent than in the United States." 
 
 "And how does this strike you?" asked King, 
 with a movement of his shoulder toward the men 
 about the dismantled table. 
 
 "Oh, I don t know," laughed Clay. "You ve 
 lived abroad yourself; how does it strike you?" 
 
 Clay was the first man to enter the drawing- 
 room. He walked directly away from the others 
 and over to Miss Langham, and, taking her fan 
 out of her hands as though to assure himself of 
 some hold upon her, seated himself with his back 
 to every one else. 
 
 "You have come to finish that story?" she said, 
 smiling. 
 
 Miss Langham was a careful young person, and 
 would not have encouraged a man she knew even 
 as well as she knew King, to talk to her through 
 dinner, and after it as well. She fully recognized 
 that because she was conspicuous certain innocent 
 pleasures were denied her which other girls could 
 enjoy without attracting attention or comment. But 
 Clay interested her beyond her usual self, and the 
 
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 look in his eyes was a tribute which she had no 
 wish to put away from her. 
 
 "I ve thought of something more interesting to 
 talk about," said Clay. "I m going to talk about 
 you. You see I ve known you a long time." 
 
 "Since eight o clock?" asked Miss Langham. 
 
 "Oh, no, since your coming out, four years 
 ago." 
 
 "It s not polite to remember so far back," she 
 said. "Were you one of those who assisted at that 
 important function? There were so many there 
 I don t remember." 
 
 "No, I only read about it. I remember it very 
 well; I had ridden over twelve miles for the mail 
 that day, and I stopped half-way back to the ranch 
 and camped out in the shade of a rock and read 
 all the papers and magazines through at one sit 
 ting, until the sun went down and I couldn t see 
 the print. One of the papers had an account of 
 your coming out in it, and a picture of you, and 
 I wrote East to the photographer for the original. 
 It knocked about the West for three months and 
 then reached me at Laredo, on the border between 
 Texas and Mexico, and I have had it with me 
 ever since." 
 
 Miss Langham looked at Clay for a moment in 
 silent dismay and with a perplexed smile. 
 
 "Where is it now?" she asked at last. 
 17
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "In my trunk at the hotel." 
 
 "Oh," she said, slowly. She was still in doubt 
 as to how to treat this act of unconventionality. 
 "Not in your watch?" she said, to cover up the 
 pause. "That would have been more in keeping 
 with the rest of the story." 
 
 The young man smiled grimly, and pulling out 
 his watch pried back the lid and turned it to her 
 so that she could see a photograph inside. The 
 face in the watch was that of a young girl in the 
 dress of a fashion of several years ago. It was 
 a lovely, frank face, looking out of the picture 
 into the world kindly and questioningly, and with 
 out fear. 
 
 "Was I once like that?" she said, lightly. "Well, 
 go on." 
 
 "Well," he said, with a little sigh of relief, "I 
 became greatly interested in Miss Alice Langham, 
 and in her comings out and goings in, and in her 
 gowns. Thanks to our having a press in the States 
 that makes a specialty of personalities, I was able 
 to follow you pretty closely, for, wherever I go, 
 I have my papers sent after me. I can get along 
 without a compass or a medicine-chest, but I can t 
 do without the newspapers and the magazines. 
 There was a time when I thought you were going 
 to marry that Austrian chap, and I didn t approve 
 of that. I knew things about him in Vienna. And 
 
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 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 then I read of your engagement to others well 
 several others; some of them I thought worthy, 
 and others not. Once I even thought of writing 
 you about it, and once I saw you in Paris. You 
 were passing on a coach. The man with me told 
 me it was you, and I wanted to follow the coach 
 in a fiacre, but he said he knew at what hotel you 
 were stopping, and so I let you go, but you were 
 not at that hotel, or at any other at least, I 
 couldn t find you." 
 
 "What would you have done ?" asked Miss 
 Langham. "Never mind," she interrupted, "go 
 on." 
 
 "Well, that s all," said Clay, smiling. "That s 
 all, at least, that concerns you. That is the ro 
 mance of this poor young man." 
 
 "But not the only one," she said, for the sake 
 of saying something. 
 
 "Perhaps not," answered Clay, "but the only 
 one that counts. I always knew I was going to 
 meet you some day. And now I have met you." 
 
 "Well, and now that you have met me," said 
 Miss Langham, looking at him in some amuse 
 ment, "are you sorry?" 
 
 "No " said Clay, but so slowly and with such 
 consideration that Miss Langham laughed and 
 held her head a little higher. "Not sorry to meet 
 you, but to meet you in such surroundings."
 
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 "What fault do you find with my surround 
 ings?" 
 
 "Well, these people," answered Clay, "they are 
 so foolish, so futile. You shouldn t be here. 
 There must be something else better than this. 
 You can t make me believe that you choose it. 
 In Europe you could have a salon, or you 
 could influence statesmen. There surely must be 
 something here for you to turn to as well. Some 
 thing better than golf-sticks and salted al 
 monds." 
 
 "What do you know of me?" said Miss Lang- 
 ham, steadily. "Only what you have read of me 
 in impertinent paragraphs. How do you know I 
 am fitted for anything else but just this? You 
 never spoke with me before to-night." 
 
 "That has nothing to do with it," said Clay, 
 quickly. "Time is made for ordinary people. 
 When people who amount to anything meet they 
 don t have to waste months in finding each other 
 out. It is only the doubtful ones who have to be 
 tested again and again. When I was a kid in the 
 diamond mines in Kimberley, I have seen the ex 
 perts pick out a perfect diamond from the heap 
 at the first glance, and without a moment s hesi 
 tation. It was the cheap stones they spent most 
 of the afternoon over. Suppose I have only seen 
 you to-night for the first time; suppose I shall not 
 
 20
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 see you again, which is quite likely, for I sail to 
 morrow for South America what of that? I am 
 just as sure of what you are as though I had known 
 you for years." 
 
 Miss Langham looked at him for a moment In 
 silence. Her beauty was so great that she could 
 take her time to speak. She was not afraid of 
 losing any one s attention. 
 
 "And have you come out of the West, knowing 
 me so well, just to tell me that I am wasting my 
 self?" she said. "Is that all?" 
 
 "That is all," answered Clay. "You know the 
 things I would like to tell you," he added, looking 
 at her closely. 
 
 "I think I like to be told the other things best," 
 she said, "they are the easier to believe." 
 
 "You have to believe whatever I tell you," said 
 Clay, smiling. The girl pressed her hands to 
 gether in her lap, and looked at him curiously. 
 The people about them were moving and making 
 their farewells, and they brought her back to the 
 present with a start. 
 
 "I m sorry you re going away," she said. "It 
 has been so odd. You come suddenly up out of 
 the wilderness, and set me to thinking and try to 
 trouble me with questions about myself, and then 
 steal away again without stopping to help me to 
 settle them. Is it fair?" She rose and put out 
 
 21
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 her hand, and he took it and held it for a moment, 
 while they stood looking at one another. 
 
 "I am coming back," he said, "and I will find 
 that you have settled them for yourself." 
 
 "Good-by," she said, in so low a tone that the 
 people standing near them could not hear. "You 
 haven t asked me for it, you know, but I think 
 I shall let you keep that picture." 
 
 "Thank you," said Clay, smiling, "I meant to." 
 
 "You can keep it," she continued, turning back, 
 "because it is not my picture. It is a picture of 
 a girl who ceased to exist four years ago, and 
 whom you have never met. Good-night." 
 
 Mr. Langham and Hope, his younger daughter, 
 had been to the theatre. The performance had 
 been one which delighted Miss Hope, and which 
 satisfied her father because he loved to hear her 
 laugh. Mr. Langham was the slave of his own 
 good fortune. By instinct and education he was 
 a man of leisure and culture, but the wealth he had 
 inherited was like an unruly child that needed his 
 constant watching, and in keeping it well in hand 
 he had become a man of business, with time for 
 nothing else. 
 
 Alice Langham, on her return from Mrs. Por 
 ter s dinner, found him in his study engaged with 
 a game of solitaire, while Hope was kneeling on 
 
 22
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 a chair beside him with her elbows on the table. 
 Mr. Langham had been troubled with insomnia 
 of late, and so it often happened that when Alice 
 returned from a ball she would find him sitting 
 with a novel, or his game of solitaire, and Hope, 
 who had crept downstairs from her bed, dozing 
 in front of the open fire and keeping him silent 
 company. The father and the younger daughter 
 were very close to one another, and had grown 
 especially so since his wife had died and his son 
 and heir had gone to college. This fourth mem 
 ber of the family was a great bond of sympathy 
 and interest between them, and his triumphs and 
 escapades at Yale were the chief subjects of their 
 conversation. It was told by the directors of a 
 great Western railroad, who had come to New 
 York to discuss an important question with Mr. 
 Langham, that they had been ushered downstairs 
 one night into his basement, where they had found 
 the President of the Board and his daughter Hope 
 working out a game of football on the billiard- 
 table. They had chalked it off into what corre 
 sponded to five-yard lines, and they were hurling 
 twenty-two chess-men across it in "flying wedges" 
 and practising the several tricks which young Lang- 
 ham had intrusted to his sister under an oath of 
 secrecy. The sight filled the directors with the 
 horrible fear that business troubles had turned the 
 
 23
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 President s mind, but after they had sat for half 
 an hour perched on the high chairs around the 
 table, while Hope excitedly explained the game to 
 them, they decided that he was wiser than they 
 knew, and each left the house regretting he had 
 no son worthy enough to bring u that young girl" 
 into the Far West. 
 
 "You are home early," said Mr. Langham, as 
 Alice stood above him pulling at her gloves. "I 
 thought you said you were going on to some 
 dance." 
 
 "I was tired," his daughter answered. 
 
 "Well, when I m out," commented Hope, "I 
 won t come home at eleven o clock. Alice always 
 was a quitter." 
 
 "A what?" asked the older sister. 
 
 "Tell us what you had for dinner," said Hope. 
 "I know it isn t nice to ask," she added, hastily, 
 "but I always like to know." 
 
 "I don t remember," Miss Langham answered, 
 smiling at her father, "except that he was very 
 much sunburned and had most perplexing eyes." 
 
 "Oh, of course," assented Hope, "I suppose 
 you mean by that that you talked with some man 
 all through dinner. Well, I think there is a time 
 for everything." 
 
 "Father," interrupted Miss Langham, "do you 
 know many engineers I mean do you come In 
 
 24
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 contact with them through the railroads and mines 
 you have an interest in ? I am rather curious about 
 them," she said, lightly. "They seem to be a most 
 picturesque lot of young men." 
 
 "Engineers? Of course," said Mr. Langham, 
 vaguely, with the ten of spades held doubtfully 
 in air. "Sometimes we have to depend upon them 
 altogether. We decide from what the engineering 
 experts tell us whether we will invest in a thing 
 or not." 
 
 "I don t think I mean the big men of the pro 
 fession," said his daughter, doubtfully. "I mean 
 those who do the rough work. The men who dig 
 the mines and lay out the railroads. Do you know 
 any of them?" 
 
 "Some of them," said Mr. Langham, leaning 
 back and shuffling the cards for a new game. 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Did you ever hear of a Mr. Robert Clay?" 
 
 Mr. Langham smiled as he placed the cards one 
 above the other in even rows. "Very often," he 
 said. "He sails to-rnorrow to open up the largest 
 iron deposits in South America. He goes for the 
 Valencia Mining Company. Valencia is the cap 
 ital of Olancho, one of those little republics down 
 there." 
 
 "Do you are you Interested in that company?" 
 asked Miss Langham, seating herself before the 
 
 25
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 fire and holding out her hands toward it. "Does 
 Mr. Clay know that you are?" 
 
 "Yes I am interested in it," Mr. Langham 
 replied, studying the cards before him, "but I don t 
 think Clay knows it nobody knows it yet, ex 
 cept the president and the other officers." He 
 lifted a card and put it down again in some in 
 decision. "It s generally supposed to be operated 
 by a company, but all the stock is owned by one 
 man. As a matter of fact, my dear children," 
 exclaimed Mr. Langham, as he placed a deuce of 
 clubs upon a deuce of spades with a smile of con 
 tent, "the Valencia Mining Company is your be 
 loved father." 
 
 "Oh," said Miss Langham, as she looked stead 
 ily into the fire. 
 
 Hope tapped her lips gently with the back of 
 her hand to hide the fact that she was sleepy, and 
 nudged her father s elbow. "You shouldn t have 
 put the deuce there," she said, "you should have 
 used it to build with on the ace." 
 
 26
 
 II 
 
 A YEAR before Mrs. Porter s dinner a tramp 
 steamer on her way to the capital of Bra 
 zil had steered so close to the shores of Olan- 
 cho that her solitary passenger could look into 
 the caverns the waves had tunnelled in the lime 
 stone cliffs along the coast. The solitary passen 
 ger was Robert Clay, and he made a guess that 
 the white palisades which fringed the base of the 
 mountains along the shore had been forced up 
 above the level of the sea many years before by 
 some volcanic act >n. Olancho, as many people 
 know, is situated on the northeastern coast of 
 South America, and its shores are washed by the 
 main equatorial current. From the deck of a pass 
 ing vessel you can obtain but little idea of Olan 
 cho or of the abundance and tropical beauty 
 which lies hidden away behind the rampart of 
 mountains on her shore. You can see only their 
 desolate dark-green front, and the white caves 
 at their base, into which the waves rush with 
 an echoing roar, and in and out of which fly con 
 tinually thousands of frightened bats. The min-
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 ing engineer on the rail of the tramp steamer ob 
 served this peculiar formation of the coast with 
 listless interest, until he noted, when the vessel 
 stood some thirty miles north of the harbor of 
 Valencia, that the limestone formation had disap 
 peared, and that the waves now beat against the 
 base of the mountains themselves. There were 
 five of these mountains which jutted out into the 
 ocean, and they suggested roughly the five knuckles 
 of a giant hand clenched and lying flat upon the 
 surface of the water. They extended for seven 
 miles, and then the caverns in the palisades began 
 again and continued on down the coast to the great 
 cliffs that guard the harbor of Olancho s capital. 
 
 "The waves tunnelled their way easily enough 
 until they ran up against those five mountains," 
 mused the engineer, "and then they had to fall 
 back." He walked to the captain s cabin and 
 asked to look at a map of the coast line. "I be 
 lieve I won t go to Rio," he said later in the day; 
 "I think I will drop off here at Valencia." 
 
 So he left the tramp steamer at that place and 
 disappeared into the interior with an ox-cart and 
 a couple of pack-mules, and returned to write a 
 lengthy letter from the Consul s office to a Mr. 
 Langham in the United States, knowing he was 
 largely interested in mines and in mining. "There 
 are five mountains filled with ore," Clay wrote, 
 
 28
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "which should be extracted by open-faced work 
 ings. I saw great masses of red hematite lying 
 exposed on the side of the mountain, only waiting 
 a pick and shovel, and at one place there were five 
 thousand tons in plain sight. I should call the 
 stuff first-class Bessemer ore, running about sixty- 
 three per cent metallic iron. The people know it 
 is there, but have no knowledge of its value, and 
 are too lazy to ever work it themselves. As to 
 transportation, it would only be necessary to run 
 a freight railroad twenty miles along the sea-coast 
 to the harbor of Valencia and dump your ore from 
 your own pier into your own vessels. It would 
 not, I think, be possible to ship direct from the 
 mines themselves, even though, as I say, the ore 
 runs right down into the water, because there is 
 no place at which it would be safe for a large 
 vessel to touch. I will look into the political side 
 of it and see what sort of a concession I can get 
 for you. I should think ten per cent of the out 
 put would satisfy them, and they would, of course, 
 admit machinery and plant free of duty." 
 
 Six months after this communication had ar 
 rived in New York City, the Valencia Mining 
 Company was formally incorporated, and a man 
 named Van Antwerp, with two hundred workmen 
 and a half-dozen assistants, was sent South to lay 
 out the freight railroad, to erect the dumping-pier, 
 
 29
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 and to strip the five mountains of their forests and 
 underbrush. It was not a task for a holiday, but 
 a stern, difficult, and perplexing problem, and Van 
 Antwerp was not quite the man to solve it. He 
 was stubborn, self-confident, and indifferent by 
 turns. He did not depend upon his lieutenants, 
 but jealously guarded his own opinions from the 
 least question or discussion, and at every step he 
 antagonized the easy-going people among whom 
 he had come to work. He had no patience with 
 their habits of procrastination, and he was con 
 tinually offending their lazy good-nature and their 
 pride. He treated the rich planters, who owned 
 the land between the mines and the harbor over 
 which the freight railroad must run, with as little 
 consideration as he showed the regiment of soldiers 
 which the Government had farmed out to the com 
 pany to serve as laborers in the mines. Six months 
 after Van Antwerp had taken charge at Valencia, 
 Clay, who had finished the railroad in Mexico, of 
 which King had spoken, was asked by telegraph 
 to undertake the work of getting the ore out of 
 the mountains he had discovered, and shipping it 
 North. He accepted the offer and was given the 
 title of General Manager and Resident Director, 
 and an enormous salary, and was also given to un 
 derstand that the rough work of preparation had 
 been accomplished, and that the more important 
 
 30
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 service of picking up the five mountains and put 
 ting them in fragments into tramp steamers would 
 continue under his direction. He had a letter of 
 recall for Van Antwerp, and a letter of introduc 
 tion to the Minister of Mines and Agriculture. 
 Further than that he knew nothing of the work 
 before him, but he concluded, from the fact that 
 he had been paid the almost prohibitive sum he 
 had asked for his services, that it must be impor 
 tant, or that he had reached that place in his career 
 when he could stop actual work and live easily, as 
 an expert, on the work of others. 
 
 Clay rolled along the coast from Valencia to 
 the mines in a paddle-wheeled steamer that had 
 served its usefulness on the Mississippi, and which 
 had been rotting at the levees in New Orleans, 
 when Van Antwerp had chartered it to carry tools 
 and machinery to the mines and to serve as a pri 
 vate launch for himself. It was a choice either 
 of this steamer and landing in a small boat, or 
 riding along the line of the unfinished railroad on 
 horseback. Either route consumed six valuable 
 hours, and Clay, who was anxious to see his new 
 field of action, beat impatiently upon the rail of 
 the rolling tub as it wallowed in the sea. 
 
 He spent the first three days after his arrival at 
 the mines in the mountains, climbing them on foot 
 and skirting their base on horseback, and sleeping 
 
 3*
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 where night overtook him. Van Antwerp did not 
 accompany him on his tour of inspection through 
 the mines, but delegated that duty to an engineer 
 named MacWilliams, and to Weimer, the United 
 States Consul at Valencia, who had served the 
 company in many ways and who was in its closest 
 confidence. 
 
 For three days the men toiled heavily over fallen 
 trunks and trees, slippery with the moss of cen 
 turies, or slid backward on the rolling stones in 
 the waterways, or clung to their ponies backs to 
 dodge the hanging creepers. At times for hours 
 together they walked in single file, bent nearly 
 double, and seeing nothing before them but the 
 shining backs and shoulders of the negroes who 
 hacked out the way for them to go. And again 
 they would come suddenly upon a precipice, and 
 drink in the soft cool breath of the ocean, and 
 look down thousands of feet upon the impenetrable 
 green under which they had been crawling, out 
 to where it met the sparkling surface of the Carib 
 bean Sea. It was three days of unceasing activity 
 while the sun shone, and of anxious questionings 
 around the camp-fire when the darkness fell, and 
 when there were no sounds on the mountain-side 
 but that of falling water in a distant ravine or 
 the calls of the night-birds. 
 
 On the morning of the fourth day Clay and his 
 32
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 attendants returned to camp and rode to where 
 the men had just begun to blast away the sloping 
 surface of the mountain. 
 
 As Clay passed between the zinc sheds and palm 
 huts of the soldier-workmen, they came running 
 out to meet him, and one, who seemed to be a 
 leader, touched his bridle, and with his straw som 
 brero in his hand begged for a word with el Senor 
 the Director. 
 
 The news of Clay s return had reached the open 
 ing, and the throb of the dummy-engines and the 
 roar of the blasting ceased as the assistant-engi 
 neers came down the valley to greet the new man 
 ager. They found him seated on his horse gazing 
 ahead of him, and listening to the story of the 
 soldier, whose fingers, as he spoke, trembled in the 
 air, with all the grace and passion of his Southern 
 nature, while back of him his companions stood 
 humbly, in a silent chorus, with eager, supplicating 
 eye?. Clay answered the man s speech curtly, with 
 a few short words, in the Spanish patois in which 
 he had been addressed, and then turned and smiled 
 grimly upon the expectant group of engineers. He 
 kept them waiting for some short space, while he 
 looked them over carefully, as though he had never 
 seen them before. 
 
 "Well, gentlemen," he said, "I m glad to have 
 you here all together. I am only sorry you didn t 
 
 33
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 come in time to hear what this fellow has had to 
 say. I don t as a rule listen that long to com 
 plaints, but he told me what I have seen for myself 
 and what has been told me by others. I have been 
 here three days now, and I assure you, gentlemen, 
 that my easiest course would be to pack up my 
 things and go home on the next steamer. I was 
 sent down here to take charge of a mine in active 
 operation, and I find what? I find that in six 
 months you have done almost nothing, and that 
 the little you have condescended to do has been 
 done so badly that it will have to be done over 
 again; that you have not only wasted a half year 
 of time and I can t tell how much money but 
 that you have succeeded in antagonizing all the 
 people on whose good-will we are absolutely de 
 pendent; you have allowed your machinery to rust 
 in the rain, and your workmen to rot with sick 
 ness. You have not only done nothing, but you 
 haven t a blue print to show me what you meant 
 to do. I have never in my life come across lazi 
 ness and mismanagement and incompetency upon 
 such a magnificent and reckless scale. You have 
 not built the pier, you have not opened the freight 
 road, you have not taken out an ounce of ore. 
 You know more of Valencia than you know of 
 these mines; you know it from the Alameda to the 
 Canal. You can tell me what night the band plays 
 
 34
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 in the Plaza, but you can t give me the elevation 
 of one of these hills. You have spent your days 
 on the pavements in front of cafes, and your 
 nights in dance-halls, and you have been drawing 
 salaries every month. I ve more respect for these 
 half-breeds that you ve allowed to starve in this 
 fever-bed than I have for you. You have treated 
 them worse than they d treat a dog, and if any 
 of them die, it s on your heads. You have put 
 them in a fever-camp which you have not even 
 taken the trouble to drain. Your commissariat 
 is rotten, and you have let them drink all the 
 rum they wanted. There is not one of you " 
 
 The group of silent men broke, and one of them 
 stepped forward and shook his forefinger at Clay. 
 
 "No man can talk to me like that," he said, 
 warningly, "and think I ll work under him. I re 
 sign 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 back 
 to New York on the first steamer, if I want to, 
 and I ll give you such characters that you ll be 
 glad to get a job carrying a transit. You re in 
 no position to talk of resigning yet not one of 
 you. Yes," he added, interrupting himself, "one 
 of you is MacWilliams, the man who had charge 
 
 35
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 of the railroad. It s no fault of his that the road s 
 not working, I understand that he couldn t get 
 the right of way from the people who owned the 
 land, but I have seen what he has done, and his 
 plans, 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 next steamer 
 could get here anyway, and I ll give you that long 
 to redeem yourselves. At the end of that time 
 we will have another talk, but you are 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 position because 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 several years since it had been part of his 
 duties to oversee the setting up of machinery, and 
 the policing of a mining camp, he threw himself 
 as earnestly into the work before him as though 
 to show his subordinates that it did not matter 
 who did the work, so long as it was done. The 
 men at first were sulky, resentful, and suspicious, 
 but they could not long resist the fact that Clay 
 was doing the work of five men and five different 
 kinds of work, not only without grumbling, but 
 apparently with the keenest pleasure. He concili 
 ated the rich coffee planters who owned the land 
 
 36
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 which he wanted for the freight road by calls of 
 the most formal state and dinners of much less for 
 mality, for he saw that the iron mine had its social 
 as well as its political side. And with this fact in 
 mind, he opened the railroad with great ceremony, 
 and much music and feasting, and the first piece 
 of ore taken out of the mine was presented to the 
 wife of the Minister of the Interior in a cluster 
 of diamonds, which made the wives of the other 
 members of the Cabinet regret that their husbands 
 had not chosen that portfolio. Six months fol 
 lowed of hard, unremitting work, during which 
 time the great pier grew out into the bay from 
 MacWilliams railroad, and the face of the first 
 mountain was scarred and torn of its green, and 
 left in mangled nakedness, while the ringing of 
 hammers and picks, and the racking blasts of dyna 
 mite, and the warning whistles of the dummy-en 
 gines drove away the accumulated silence of cen 
 turies. 
 
 It had been a long uphill fight, and Clay had 
 enjoyed it mightily. Two unexpected events had 
 contributed to help it. One was the arrival in 
 Valencia of young Teddy Langham, who came 
 ostensibly to learn the profession of which Clay 
 w r as so conspicuous an example, and in reality to 
 watch over his father s interests. He was put at 
 Clay s elbow, and Clay made him learn in spite 
 
 37
 
 Soldiers or Fortune 
 
 of himself, for he ruled him and MacWilliams, 
 of both of whom he was very fond, as though, so 
 they complained, they were the laziest and the most 
 rebellious members of his entire staff. The second 
 event of importance was the announcement made 
 one day by young Langham that his father s physi 
 cian had ordered rest in a mild climate, and that 
 he and his daughters were coming in a month to 
 spend the winter in Valencia, and to see how the 
 son and heir had developed as a man of business. 
 The idea of Mr. Langham s coming to visit 
 Olancho to inspect his new possessions was not a 
 surprise to Clay. It had occurred to him as possi 
 ble before, especially after the son had come to 
 join them there. The place was interesting and 
 beautiful enough in itself to justify a visit, and it 
 was only a ten days voyage from New York. But 
 he had never considered the chance of Miss Lang- 
 ham s coming, and when that was now not only 
 possible but a certainty, he dreamed of little else. 
 He lived as earnestly and toiled as indefatigably 
 as before, but the place was utterly transformed 
 for him. He saw it now as she would see it when 
 she came, even while at the same time his own 
 eyes retained their point of view. It was as though 
 he had lengthened the focus of a glass, and looked 
 beyond at what was beautiful and picturesque, in 
 stead of what was near at hand and practicable. 
 
 38
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 He found himself smiling with anticipation of her 
 pleasure in the orchids hanging from the dead 
 trees, high above the opening of the mine, and in 
 the parrots hurling themselves like gayly colored 
 missiles among the vines; and he considered the 
 harbor at night with its colored lamps floating on 
 the black water as a scene set for her eyes. He 
 planned the dinners that he would give in her 
 honor on the balcony of the great restaurant in 
 the Plaza on those nights when the band played, 
 and the senoritas circled in long lines between ad 
 miring rows of officers and caballeros. And he 
 imagined how, when the ore-boats had been filled 
 and his work had slackened, he would be free to 
 ride with her along the rough mountain roads, be 
 tween magnificent pillars of royal palms, or to 
 venture forth in excursions down the bay, to ex 
 plore the caves and to lunch on board the rolling 
 paddle-wheel steamer, which he would have re 
 painted and gilded for her coming. He pictured 
 himself acting as her guide over the great mines, 
 answering her simple questions about the strange 
 machinery, and the crew of workmen, and the local 
 government by which he ruled two thousand men. 
 It was not on account of any personal pride in 
 the mines that he wanted her to see them, it was 
 not because he had discovered and planned and 
 opened them that he wished to show them to her, 
 
 39
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 but as a curious spectacle that he hoped would give 
 her a moment s interest. 
 
 But his keenest pleasure was when young Lang- 
 ham suggested that they should build a house for 
 his people on the edge of the hill that jutted out 
 over the harbor and the great ore pier. If this 
 were done, Langham urged, it would be possible 
 for him to see much more of his family than he 
 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 boy said, "and then we shall have 
 them within call at night when we get back from 
 work; but if they are in Valencia, it will take the 
 greater part of the evening going there and all of 
 the night getting back, for I can t pass that club 
 under three hours. It will keep us out of tempta 
 tion." 
 
 "Yes, exactly," said Clay, with a guilty smile, 
 "it will keep us out of temptation." 
 
 So they cleared away the underbrush, and put 
 a double force of men to work on what was to be 
 the most beautiful and comfortable bungalow on 
 the edge of the harbor. It had blue and green and 
 white tiles on the floors, and walls of bamboo, and 
 a red roof of curved tiles to let in the air, and 
 dragons heads for water-spouts, and verandas as 
 broad as the house itself. There was an open couvt 
 
 40
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 in the middle hung with balconies looking down 
 upon a splashing fountain, and to decorate this 
 patio, they levied upon people for miles around 
 for tropical plants and colored mats and awnings. 
 They cut down the trees that hid the view of the 
 long harbor leading from the sea into Valencia, 
 and planted a rampart of other trees to hide the 
 iron-ore pier, and they sodded the raw spots where 
 the men had been building, until the place was as 
 completely 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 preparing it 
 for his honeymoon. They would be walking to 
 gether in Valencia when one would say, "We ought 
 to have that for the house," and without question 
 they would march into the shop together and order 
 whatever they fancied to be sent out to the house 
 of the president of the mines on the hill. They 
 stocked it with wine and linens, and hired a vo- 
 lante and six horses, and fitted out the driver with 
 a new pair of boots that reached above his knees, 
 and a silver jacket and a sombrero that was so 
 heavy with braid that It flashed like a halo about 
 his head in the sunlight, and he was ordered not 
 to wear it until the ladies came, under penalty of 
 arrest. It delighted Clay to find that it was only 
 
 41
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 the beautiful things and the fine things of his daily 
 routine that suggested her to him, as though she 
 could not be associated in his mind with anything 
 less worthy, and he kept saying to himself, "She 
 will like this view from the end of the terrace," 
 and "This will be her favorite walk," or "She 
 will swing her hammock here," and "I know she 
 will not fancy the rug that Weimer chose." 
 
 While this fairy palace was growing the three 
 men lived as roughly as before in the wooden hut 
 at the terminus of the freight road, three hundred 
 yards below the house, and hidden from it by an 
 impenetrable rampart of brush and Spanish bay 
 onet. There was a rough road leading from it 
 to the city, five miles away, which they had ex 
 tended still farther up the hill to the Palms, which 
 was the name Langham had selected for his fa 
 ther s house. And when it was finally finished, 
 they continued to live under the corrugated zinc 
 roof of their office building, and locking up the 
 Palms, left it in charge of a gardener and a watch 
 man until the coming of its rightful owners. 
 
 It had been a viciously hot, close day, and even 
 now the air came in sickening waves, like a blast 
 from the engine-room of a steamer, and the heat 
 lightning played round the mountains over the har 
 bor and showed the empty wharves, and the black 
 outlines of the steamers, and the white front of 
 
 42
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 the Custom-House, and the long half-circle of 
 twinkling lamps along the quay. MacWilliams 
 and Langham sat panting on the lower steps of 
 the office-porch considering whether they were too 
 lazy to clean themselves and be rowed over to the 
 city, where, as it was Sunday ,night, was promised 
 much entertainment. They had been for the last 
 hour trying to make up their minds as to this, and 
 appealing to Clay to stop work and decide for 
 them. But he sat inside at a table figuring and 
 writing under the green shade of a student s lamp 
 and made no answer. The walls of Clay s office 
 were of unplaned boards, bristling with splinters, 
 and hung with blue prints and outline maps of the 
 mine. A gaudily colored portrait of Madame la 
 Presidenta, the noble and beautiful woman whom 
 Alvarez, the President of Olancho, had lately man 
 ried in Spain, was pinned to the wall above ths 
 table. This table, with its green oil-cloth top, and 
 the lamp, about which winged insects beat noisily, 
 and an earthen water-jar from which the water 
 dripped as regularly as the ticking of a clock 
 were the only articles of furniture in the office. 
 On a shelf at one side of the door lay the men 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 
 
 43
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 his joints were sore and stiff with fording streams 
 and climbing the surfaces of rocks. The red ore 
 and yellow mud of the mines were plastered over 
 his boots and riding-breeches, where he had stood 
 knee-deep in the water, and his shirt stuck to him 
 like a wet bathing-suit, showing his ribs when he 
 breathed and the curves of his broad chest. A 
 ring of burning paper and hot ashes fell from his 
 cigarette to his breast and burnt a hole through 
 the cotton shirt, and he let it lie there and watched 
 it burn with a grim smile. 
 
 "I wanted to see," he explained, catching the 
 look of listless curiosity in MacWilliams s eye, 
 "whether there was anything hotter than my blood. 
 It s racing around like boiling water in a pot." 
 
 "Listen," said Langham, holding up his hand. 
 "There goes the call for prayers in the convent, 
 and now it s too late to go to town. I am glad, 
 rather. I m too tired to keep awake, and besides, 
 they don t know how to amuse themselves in a 
 civilized way at least not in my way. 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 people are at the theatre, or they ve 
 just finished dinner and are sitting around sipping 
 cool green mint, trickling through little lumps of 
 ice. What I d like " he stopped and shut one 
 eye and gazed, with his head on one side, at the 
 
 44
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 unimaginative MacWilliams "what I d like to do 
 now," he continued, thoughtfully, "would be to 
 sit in the front row at a comic opera, on the aisle. 
 The prima donna must be very, very beautiful, and 
 sing most of her songs at me, and there must be 
 three comedians, all good, and a chorus entirely 
 composed of girls. I never could see why they 
 have men in the chorus, anyway. No one ever 
 looks at 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 to the college-bred Lang- 
 ham he was a revelation and a joy. He came from 
 some little town in the West, and had learned what 
 he knew of engineering at the transit s mouth, after 
 he had first served his apprenticeship by cutting 
 sage-brush and driving stakes. His life had been 
 spent in Mexico and Central America, and he 
 spoke of the home he had not seen in ten years 
 with the aggressive loyalty of the confirmed wan 
 derer, and he was known to prefer and to import 
 canned corn and canned tomatoes in preference to 
 eating the wonderful fruits of the country, because 
 the former came from the States and tasted to him 
 of home. He had crowded into his young life ex 
 periences that would have shattered the nerves of 
 any other man with a more sensitive conscience and 
 a less happy sense of humor; but these same ex- 
 
 45
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 periences had only served to make him shrewd and 
 self-confident and at his ease when the occasion 
 or difficulty came. 
 
 He pulled meditatively on his pipe and consid 
 ered Langham s question deeply, while Clay and 
 the younger boy sat with their arms upon their 
 knees and waited for his decision in thoughtful 
 silence. 
 
 "I d like to go to the theatre, too," said Mac- 
 Williams, with an air as though to show that he 
 also was possessed of artistic tastes. "I d like to 
 see a comical chap I saw once in 80 oh, long 
 ago before I joined the P. Q. & M. He was 
 funny. His name was Owens; that was his name, 
 John E. Owens " 
 
 "Oh, for heaven s sake, MacWilliams," pro 
 tested 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," he said after an effort, 
 "Owens, John E. Owens; that s the one I want to 
 see." 
 
 "Well, now I want another wish, too," said 
 46
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 Langham. "I move we can each have two wishes. 
 1 wish" 
 
 "Wait until I ve had mine," said Clay. "You ve 
 had one turn. I want to be in a place I know in 
 Vienna. It s not hot like this, but cool and fresh. 
 It s an open, out-of-door concert-garden, with hun 
 dreds of colored lights and trees, and there s al 
 ways a breeze coming through. And Eduard 
 Strauss, the son, you know, leads the orchestra 
 there, and they play nothing but waltzes, and he 
 stands in front of them, and begins by raising him 
 self on his toes, and then he lifts his shoulders 
 gently and then sinks back again and raises his 
 baton as though he were drawing the music out 
 after it, and the whole place seems to rock and 
 move. It s like being picked up and carried on 
 the deck of a yacht over great waves; and all 
 around you are the beautiful Viennese women and 
 those tall Austrian officers in their long, blue coats 
 and flat hats and silver swords. And there are 
 cool drinks " continued Clay, with his eyes fixed 
 on the coming storm "all sorts of cool drinks 
 in high, thin glasses, full of ice, all the ice you 
 want " 
 
 "Oh, drop it, will you?" cried Langham, with 
 a shrug of his damp shoulders. "I can t stand 
 it. I m parching." 
 
 "Wait a minute," interrupted MacWilliams, 
 47
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 leaning forward and looking into the night. "Some 
 one s coming." There was a sound down the road 
 of hoofs and the rattle of the land-crabs as they 
 scrambled off into the bushes, and two men on 
 horseback came suddenly out of the darkness and 
 drew rein in the light from the open door. The 
 first was General Mendoza, the leader of the Op 
 position in the Senate, and the other, his orderly. 
 The General dropped his Panama hat to his knee 
 and bowed in the saddle three times. 
 
 "Good-evening, your Excellency," said Clay, 
 rising. "Tell that peon to get my coat, will you?" 
 he added, turning to Langham. Langham clapped 
 his hands, and the clanging of a guitar ceased, and 
 their servant and cook came out from the back 
 of the hut and held the General s horse while 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, and showing his white teeth. 
 "The telephone is not working. I tried at the 
 club, but I could not call you." 
 
 "It s the storm, I suppose," Clay answered, as 
 he struggled into his jacket. "Let me offer you 
 something to drink." He entered the house, and 
 returned with several bottles on a tray and a bun 
 dle of cigars. The Spanish-American poured him- 
 
 48
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 self out a glass of water, mixing it with Jamaica 
 rum, and said, smiling again, "It is a saying of 
 your countrymen that when a man first comes to 
 Olancho he puts a little rum into his water, and 
 that when he is here some time he puts a little 
 water 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 at the horses and the orderly. 
 The clanging of the guitar began again from the 
 kitchen. "You have a very beautiful view here 
 of the harbor, yes," said Mendoza. He seemed 
 to enjoy the pause after his ride, and to be in no 
 haste to begin on the object of his errand. Mac- 
 Williams and Langham eyed each other covertly, 
 and Clay examined the end of his cigar, 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 at first, but now that things are 
 in working order, we are getting out about ten 
 thousand tons a month. We hope to increase that 
 soon to twenty thousand when the new openings 
 are developed and our shipping facilities are in 
 better shape." 
 
 "So much!" exclaimed the General, pleasantly. 
 49
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "Of which the Government of my country is to 
 get its share of ten per cent one thousand tons! 
 It is munificent !" He laughed and shook his head 
 slyly at Clay, who smiled in dissent. 
 
 "But you see, sir," said Clay, "you cannot blame 
 us. The mines have always been there, before 
 this Government came in, before the Spaniards 
 were here, before there was any Government at 
 all, but there was not the capital to open them up, 
 I suppose, or and it needed a certain energy to 
 begin the attack. Your people let the chance go, 
 and, as it turned out, I think they were very wise 
 in doing so. They get ten per cent of the output. 
 That s ten per cent on nothing, for the mines really 
 didn t exist, as far as you were concerned, until 
 we came, did they? They were just so much 
 waste land, and they would have remained so. 
 And look at the price we paid down before we 
 cut a tree. Three millions of dollars; that s a 
 good deal of money. It will be some time before 
 we realize anything on that investment." 
 
 Mendoza shook his head and shrugged his 
 shoulders. "I will be frank with you," he said, 
 with the air of one to whom dissimulation is diffi 
 cult. "I come here to-night on an unpleasant er 
 rand, but it is with me a matter of duty, and I 
 am a soldier, to whom duty is the foremost ever. 
 I have come to tell you, Mr. Clay, that we, the 
 
 So
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 Opposition, are not satisfied with the manner in 
 which the Government has disposed of these great 
 iron deposits. When I say not satisfied, my dear 
 friend, I speak most moderately. I should say 
 that we are surprised and indignant, and we are 
 determined the wrong it has done our country 
 shall be righted. I have the honor to have been 
 chosen to speak for our party on this most im 
 portant question, and on next Tuesday, sir," the 
 General stood up and bowed, as though he were 
 before a great assembly, "I will rise in the Senate 
 and move a vote of want of confidence in the Gov 
 ernment for the manner in which it has given away 
 the richest possessions in the storehouse of my 
 country, giving it not only 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 shameful bargain, and I cannot say who is 
 to blame; I accuse no one. But I suspect, and I 
 will demand an investigation; I will demand that 
 the value not of one-tenth, but of one-half of all 
 the iron that your company takes out of Olancho 
 shall be paid into the treasury of the State. And 
 I come to you to-night, as the Resident Director, 
 to inform you 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 
 to make good bargains, they get what they best
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 can. That is the rule of trade, but they have 
 gone too far, and I advise you to communicate 
 with your people in New York and learn what they 
 are prepared to offer now now that they have to 
 deal with men who do not consider their own 
 interests but the interests of their country." 
 
 Mendoza made a sweeping bow and seated him 
 self, frowning dramatically, with folded arms. His 
 voice still hung in the air, for he had spoken as 
 earnestly as though he imagined himself already 
 standing in the hall of 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 quick 
 sputtering of the nicotine in Langham s pipe, at 
 which he pulled quickly, and which was the only 
 outward sign the boy gave of his interest. Clay 
 shifted one muddy boot over the other and leaned 
 back with his hands stuck in his belt. 
 
 "Why didn t you speak of this sooner?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "Ah, yes, that is fair," said the General, quick 
 ly. "I know that it is late, and I regret it, and 
 I see that we cause you inconvenience; but how 
 could I speak sooner when I was ignorant of what 
 was going on? I have been away with my troops. 
 I am a soldier first, a politician after. During the 
 
 52
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 last year I have been engaged in guarding the fron 
 tier. No news comes to a General in the field 
 moving from camp to camp and always in the 
 saddle; but I may venture to hope, sir, that news 
 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 your return you say you 
 found things had not been going to your liking?" 
 
 "That is it," assented the other, eagerly. "I 
 find that indignation reigns on every side. I find 
 my friends complaining of the railroad which you 
 run across their land. I find that fifteen hundred 
 soldiers are turned into laborers, with picks and 
 spades, working by the side of negroes and your 
 Irish; they have not been paid their wages, and 
 they have 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. I should 
 be glad, General, to take you over the men s quar 
 ters at any time. As for their not having been 
 paid, they were never paid by their own Govern 
 ment before they came to us and for the same rea 
 son, because the petty officers kept back the money, 
 just as they have always done. But the men are 
 
 53
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 paid now. However, this is not of the most im 
 portance. 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 the 
 stock offered here to us in this country ? Why was 
 it not put on the market, that any one might buy? 
 We have rich men in Olancho, why should not they 
 benefit first of all others by the wealth of their 
 own lands ? But no ! we are not asked to buy. 
 All the stock is taken in New York, no one benefits 
 but the State, and it receives only ten per cent. 
 It is monstrous!" 
 
 "I see," said Clay, gravely. "That had not oc^ 
 curred to me before. They feel they have been 
 slighted. I see." He paused for a moment as 
 if in serious consideration. "Well," he added, 
 "that might be arranged." 
 
 He turned and jerked his head toward the open 
 door. "If you boys mean to go to town to-night, 
 you d better be moving," he said. The two men 
 rose together and bowed silently to their guest. 
 
 "I should like if Mr. Langham would remain 
 a moment with us," said Mendoza, politely. "I 
 understand that it is his father who controls the 
 stock of the company. If we discuss any arrange 
 ment it might be well if he were here." 
 
 54
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 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 down here 
 as my father s son," he said, "I am an employee 
 of Mr. Clay s. He represents the company. 
 Good-night, sir." 
 
 "You think, then," said Clay, "that if your 
 friends were given an opportunity to subscribe 
 to the stock they would feel less resentful toward 
 us? They would think it was fairer to all?" 
 
 "I know it," said Mendoza; "why should the 
 stock go out of the country when those living here 
 are able to buy it?" 
 
 "Exactly," said Clay, "of course. Can you tell 
 me this, General? Are the gentlemen who want 
 to buy stock in the mine the same men who are 
 in the 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 the General twirled his hat around 
 his knee and gazed with appreciation at the stars 
 above him. 
 
 "Because if they are," Clay continued, "and 
 they succeed in getting our share cut down from 
 ninety per cent to fifty per cent, they must see that 
 the stock would be worth just forty per cent less 
 than it is now." 
 
 55
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "That is true," assented the other. "I have 
 thought of that, and if the Senators in Opposition 
 were given a chance to subscribe, I am sure they 
 would see that it is better wisdom to drop their 
 objections to the concession, and as stockholders 
 allow you to keep ninety per cent of the output. 
 And, again," continued Mendoza, "it is really bet 
 ter for the country that the money should go to its 
 people than that it should be stored up in the 
 vaults of the treasury, when there is always the 
 danger that the President will seize it; or, if not 
 this one, the next one." 
 
 "I should think that is it seems to me," said 
 Clay with careful consideration, "that your Ex 
 cellency might be able to render us great help in 
 this matter yourself. We need a friend among 
 the Opposition. In fact I see where you could 
 assist us in many ways, where your services would 
 be strictly in the line of your public duty and yet 
 benefit us very much. Of course I cannot speak 
 authoritatively without first consulting Mr. Lang- 
 ham; but I should think he would allow you per 
 sonally 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 your friends 
 in Opposition where it would do the most good." 
 
 Clay looked over inquiringly to where Men 
 doza sat in the light of the open door, and the 
 
 56
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 General smiled faintly, and emitted a pleased lit 
 tle sigh of relief. "Indeed," continued Clay, "I 
 should think Mr. Langham might even save you 
 the formality of purchasing the stock outright by 
 sending you its money equivalent:. I beg your 
 pardon," he asked, interrupting himself, "does 
 your orderly understand English?" 
 
 "He does not," the General assured him, eager 
 ly, dragging his chair a little closer. 
 
 "Suppose now that Mr. Langham were to put 
 fifty or let us say sixty thousand dollars to your 
 account in the Valencia Bank, do you think this 
 vote of want of confidence in the Government on 
 the question of our 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 do you think, General, that 
 were you paid that sum you would be able to call 
 off your friends, or would they make a demand 
 for stock also?" 
 
 "Have no anxiety at all, they do just what 1 
 say," returned Mendoza, in an eager whisper. "If 
 I say It is all right, I am satisfied with what the 
 Government has done in my absence, it is enough. 
 And I will say it, I give you the word of a sol 
 dier, I will say it. 1 will not move a vote of want 
 
 57
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 of confidence on Tuesday. You need go no far 
 ther than myself. I am glad that I am powerful 
 enough to serve you, and if you doubt me" he 
 struck his heart and bowed with a deprecatory 
 smile "you need not pay in the money in ex 
 change for the stock all at the same time. You 
 can pay ten thousand this year, and next year ten 
 thousand more and so on, and so feel confident 
 that I shall have the interests of the mine always 
 in my heart. Who knows what may not happen 
 in a year? I may be able to serve you even more. 
 Who knows how long the present Government 
 will last? But I give you my word of honor, no 
 matter whether I be in Opposition or at the head 
 of the Government, if I receive every six months 
 the retaining fee of which you speak, I will be 
 your representative. And my friends can do noth 
 ing. I despise them. / am the Opposition. You 
 have done well, rny dear sir, to consider me 
 alone." 
 
 Clay turned in his chair and looked back of him 
 through the office to the room beyond. 
 
 "Boys," he called, "you can come out now." 
 He rose and pushed his chair away and beck 
 oned to the orderly who sat in the saddle holding 
 the General s horse. Langham and MacWilliams 
 came out and stood in the open door, and Men 
 doza rose and looked at Clay. 
 
 58
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "You can go now," Clay said to him, quietly. 
 "And you can rise in the Senate on Tuesday and 
 move your vote of want of confidence and object to 
 our concession, and when you have resumed your 
 seat the Secretary of Mines will rise in his turn and 
 tell the Senate how you stole out here in the night 
 and tried to blackmail me, and begged me to bribe 
 you to be silent, and that you offered to throw 
 over your friends and to take all that we would 
 give you and keep it yourself. That will make 
 you popular with your friends, and will show the 
 Government just what sort of a leader it has work 
 ing against it." 
 
 Clay took a step forward and shook his finger 
 in the officer s face. "Try to break that conces 
 sion; try it. It was made by one Government to 
 a body of honest, decent business men, with a 
 Government of their own back of them, and if 
 you interfere with our conceded rights to work 
 those mines, I ll have a man-of-war down here 
 with white paint on her hull, and she ll blow you 
 and your little republic back up there into the 
 mountains. Now you can go." 
 
 Mendoza had straightened with surprise when 
 Clay first began to speak, and had then bent for 
 ward slightly as though he meant to interrupt him. 
 His eyebrows were lowered In a straight line, and 
 his lips moved quickly. 
 
 59
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "You poor he began, contemptuously. 
 "Bah," he exclaimed, "you re a fool; I should 
 have sent a servant to talk with you. You are 
 a child but you are an insolent child," he cried, 
 suddenly, his anger breaking out, "and I shall 
 punish you. You dare to call me names ! You 
 shall fight me, you shall fight me to-morrow. You 
 have insulted an officer, and you shall meet me at 
 once, to-morrow." 
 
 "If I meet you to-morrow," Clay replied, "I 
 will thrash you for your impertinence. The only 
 reason I don t do it now is because you are on 
 my doorstep. You had better not meet me to 
 morrow, or at any other time. And I have no 
 leisure to fight duels with anybody." 
 
 "You are a coward," returned the other, quiet 
 ly, "and I tell you so before my servant." 
 
 Clay gave a short laugh and turned to Mac- 
 Williams in the doorway. 
 
 "Hand me my gun, MacWilliams," he said, 
 "it s on the shelf to the right." 
 
 MacWilliams stood still and shook his head. 
 "Oh, let him alone," he said. "You ve got him 
 where you want him." 
 
 "Give me the gun, I tell you," repeated Clay. 
 "I m not going to hurt him, I m only going to 
 show him how I can shoot." 
 
 MacWilliams moved grudgingly across the 
 60
 
 " Now you can go.
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 porch and brought back the revolver 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 head and had begun un 
 buckling the strap of his holster, and the orderly 
 reached back into the boot for his carbine. Clay 
 told him in Spanish to throw up his hands, and 
 the man, with a frightened look at his officer, did 
 as the revolver suggested. Then Clay motioned 
 with his empty hand for the other to desist. 
 "Don t do that," he said, "I m not going to 
 hurt you; I m only going to frighten you a lit 
 tle." 
 
 He turned and looked at the student lamp in 
 side, where it stood on the table in full view. 
 Then he raised his revolver. He did not appar 
 ently hold it away from him by the butt, as other 
 men do, but let it lie in the palm of his hand, 
 into which it seemed to fit like the hand 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 the light, and the next 
 drove the lamp crashing to the floor. There was 
 a wild yell of terror from the back of the house, 
 and the noise of a guitar falling down a flight of 
 steps. "I have probably killed a very good cook," 
 said Clay, "as I should as certainly kill you, if 1 
 
 61
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 were to meet you. Langham," he continued, "go 
 tell that cook to come back." 
 
 The General sprang into his saddle, and the 
 altitude it gave him seemed to bring back some 
 of the jauntiness he had lost. 
 
 "That was very pretty," he said; "you have 
 been a cowboy, so they tell me. It is quite evi 
 dent by your manners. No matter, if we do not 
 meet to-morrow it will be because I have more 
 serious work to do. Two months from to-day 
 there will be a new Government in Olancho and 
 a new President, and the mines will have a new 
 director. I have tried to be your friend, Mr. 
 Clay. See how you like me for an enemy. Good 
 night, gentlemen." 
 
 "Good-night," said MacWilliams, unmoved. 
 "Please ask your man to close the gate after you." 
 
 When the sound of the hoofs had died away 
 the men still stood in an uncomfortable silence, 
 with Clay twirling the revolver around his middle 
 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 to me as though it had just 
 begun. So far as I can see they re going to give 
 the governor a run for his money yet." 
 
 62
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 Clay turned to MacWilliams. 
 
 "How many of Mendoza s soldiers have we in 
 the mines, Mac?" he asked. 
 
 "About fifteen hundred," MacWilliams an 
 swered. "But you ought to hear the way they 
 talk of him." 
 
 "They do, eh?" said Clay, with a smile of satis 
 faction. "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 and all 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 I should like to be Pres 
 ident of Olancho."
 
 Ill 
 
 Langhams were to arrive on Friday, 
 and during the week before that day Clay 
 went about with a long slip of paper in his pock 
 et which he would consult earnestly in corners, 
 and upon which he would note down the things 
 that they had left undone. At night he would 
 sit staring at it and turning it over in much con 
 cern, and would beg Langham to tell him what 
 he could have meant when he wrote "see Wei- 
 mer," or "clean brasses," or "S. Q. M." "Why 
 should I see Weimer," he would exclaim, "and 
 which brasses, and what does S. Q. M. stand for, 
 for heaven s sake?" 
 
 They held a full-dress rehearsal in the bunga 
 low to improve its state of preparation, and drilled 
 the servants and talked English to them, so that 
 they would know what was wanted when the 
 young ladies came. It was an interesting exercise, 
 and had the three young men been less serious in 
 their anxiety to welcome the coming guests they 
 would have found themselves very amusing as 
 when Langham would lean over the balcony in 
 
 64
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 the court and shout back into the kitchen, in what 
 was supposed to be an imitation of his sister s 
 manner, "Bring my coffee and rolls and don t 
 take all day about it either," while Clay and Mac- 
 Williams stood anxiously below to head off the 
 servants when they carried in a can of hot water 
 instead of bringing the horses round to the door, 
 as they had been told to do. 
 
 "Of course it s a bit rough and all that," Clay 
 would say, "but they have only to tell us what 
 they want changed and we can have it ready for 
 them in an hour." 
 
 "Oh, my sisters are all right," Langham would 
 reassure him; "they ll think it s fine. It will be 
 like camping-out to them, or a picnic. They ll 
 understand." 
 
 But to make sure, and to "test his girders," 
 as Clay put it, they gave a dinner, and after that 
 a breakfast. The President came to the first, with 
 his wife, the Countess Manuelata, Madame la 
 Presidenta, and Captain Stuart, late of the Gor 
 don Highlanders, and now in command of the 
 household troops at the Government House and 
 of the body-guard of the President. He was a 
 friend of Clay s and popular with every one pres 
 ent, except for the fact that he occupied this po 
 sition, instead of serving his own Government in 
 his own army. Some people said he had been 
 
 65
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 crossed in love, others, less sentimental, that he 
 had forged a check, or mixed up the mess ac 
 counts of his company. But Clay and MacWill- 
 iams said it concerned no one why he was there, 
 and then emphasized the remark by picking a 
 quarrel with a man who had given an unpleasant 
 reason for it. Stuart, so far as they were con 
 cerned, could do no wrong. 
 
 The dinner went off very well, and the Presi 
 dent consented to dine with them in a week, on 
 the invitation of young Langham to meet his 
 father. 
 
 "Miss Langham is very beautiful, they tell me," 
 Madame Alvarez said to Clay. "I heard of her 
 one winter in Rome; she was presented there and 
 much admired." 
 
 "Yes, I believe she is considered very beauti 
 ful," Clay said. "I have only just met her, but 
 she has travelled a great deal and knows every 
 one who is of interest, and I think you will like 
 her very much." 
 
 "I mean to like her," said the woman. "There 
 are very few of the native ladies who have seen 
 much of the world beyond a trip to Paris, where 
 they live in their hotels and at the dressmaker s 
 while their husbands enjoy themselves; and some 
 times I am rather heart-sick for my home and my 
 own people. I was overjoyed when I heard Miss 
 
 66
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 Langham was to be with us this winter. But you 
 must not keep her out here to yourselves. It is 
 too far and too selfish. She must spend some time 
 with me at the Government House." 
 
 "Yes," said Clay, "I am afraid of that. I am 
 afraid the young ladies will find it rather lonely 
 out here." 
 
 "Ah, no," exclaimed the woman, quickly. "You 
 have made it beautiful, and it is only a half-hour s 
 ride, except when it rains," she added, laughing, 
 "and then it is almost as easy to row as to ride." 
 
 "I will have the road repaired," interrupted the 
 President. "It is my wish, Mr. Clay, that you 
 will command me in every way; I am most desir 
 ous to make the visit of Mr. Langham agreeable 
 to him, he is doing so much for us." 
 
 The breakfast was given later in the week, and 
 only men were present. They were the rich plant 
 ers and bankers of Valencia, generals in the army, 
 and members of the Cabinet, and officers from 
 the tiny war-ship in the harbor. The breeze from 
 the bay touched them through the open doors, the 
 food and wine cheered them, and the eager cour 
 tesy and hospitality of the three Americans pleased 
 and flattered them. They were of a people who 
 better appreciate the amenities of life than its 
 sacrifices. 
 
 The breakfast lasted far into the afternoon, and, 
 67
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 insprred by the success of the banquet, Clay quite 
 unexpectedly found himself on his feet with his 
 hand on his heart, thanking the guests for the 
 good-will and assistance which they had given him 
 in his work. "I have tramped down your coffee- 
 plants, and cut away your forests, and disturbed 
 your sleep with my engines, and you have not 
 complained," he said, in his best Spanish, "and 
 we will show that we arc not ungrateful." 
 
 Then Weimer, the Consul, spoke, and told them 
 that in his Annual Consular Report, which he had 
 just forwarded to the State Department, he had 
 related how ready the Government of Olancho 
 had been to assist the American company. "And 
 I hope," he concluded, "that you will allow me, 
 gentlemen, to propose the health of President Al 
 varez and the members of his Cabinet." 
 
 The men rose to their feet, one by one, filling 
 their glasses and laughing and saying, "Viva el 
 Gobernador," until they were all standing. Then, 
 as they looked at one another and saw only the 
 faces of friends, some one of them cried, sud 
 denly, "To President Alvarez, Dictator of Olan 
 cho !" 
 
 The cry was drowned in a yell of exultation, 
 and men sprang cheering to their chairs waving 
 their napkins above their heads, and those who 
 wore swords drew them and flashed them in the 
 
 68
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 air, and the quiet, lazy good-nature of the break 
 fast was turned into an uproarious scene of wild 
 excitement. Clay pushed back his chair from the 
 head of the table with an anxious look at the 
 servants gathered about the open door, and Wei- 
 mer clutched frantically at Langham s elbow and 
 whispered, "What did I say? For heaven s sake, 
 how did it begin?" 
 
 The outburst ceased as suddenly as it had start 
 ed, and old General Rojas, the Vice-President, 
 called out, "What is said is said, but it must not 
 be repeated." 
 
 Stuart waited until after the rest had gone, and 
 Clay led him out to the end of the veranda. "Now 
 will you kindly tell me what that was?" Clay 
 asked. "It didn t sound like champagne." 
 
 "No," said the other, "I thought you knew. 
 Alvarez means to proclaim himself Dictator, if 
 he can, before the spring elections." 
 
 "And are you going to help him?" 
 
 "Of course," said the Englishman, simply. 
 
 "Well, that s all right," said Clay, "but there s 
 no use shouting the fact all over the shop like 
 that and they shouldn t drag me into it." 
 
 Stuart laughed easily and shook his head. "It 
 won t be long before you ll be in it yourself," he 
 said. 
 
 Clay awoke early Friday morning to hear the 
 69
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 shutters beating viciously against the side of the 
 house, and the wind rushing through the palms, 
 and the rain beating in splashes on the zinc roof. 
 It did not come soothingly and in a steady down 
 pour, but brokenly, like the rush of waves sweep 
 ing over a rough beach. He turned on the pillow 
 and shut his eyes again with the same impotent 
 and rebellious sense of disappointment that he 
 used to feel when he had wakened as a boy and 
 found it storming on his holiday, and he tried to 
 sleep once more in the hope that when he again 
 awoke the sun would be shining in his eyes; but 
 the storm only slackened and did not cease, and 
 the rain continued to fall with dreary, relentless 
 persistence. The men climbed the muddy road to 
 the Palms, and viewed in silence the wreck which 
 the night had brought to their plants and garden- 
 paths. Rivulets of muddy water had cut gutters 
 over the lawn and poured out from under the 
 veranda, and plants and palms lay bent and 
 broken, with their broad leaves bedraggled and 
 coated with mud. The harbor and the encircling 
 mountains showed dimly through a curtain of 
 warm, sticky rain. To something that Langham 
 said of making the best of it, MacWilliams re 
 plied, gloomily, that he would not be at all sur 
 prised if the ladies refused to leave the ship and 
 demanded to be taken home immediately. "I am 
 
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 sorry," Clay said, simply; "1 wanted them to 
 like it." 
 
 The men walked back to the office In grim si 
 lence, and took turns in watching with a glass the 
 arms of the semaphore, three miles below, at the 
 narrow opening of the bay. Clay smiled nervous 
 ly at himself, with a sudden sinking at the heart, 
 and with a hot blush of pleasure, as he thought 
 of how often he had looked at its great arms out 
 lined like a mast against the sky, and thanked it 
 in advance for telling him that she was near. In 
 the harbor below, the vessels lay with bare yards 
 and empty decks, the wharves were deserted, and 
 only an occasional small boat moved across the 
 beaten surface of the bay. 
 
 But at twelve o clock MacWilliams lowered the 
 glass quickly, with a little gasp of excitement, 
 rubbed its moist lens on the inside of his coat and 
 turned it again toward a limp strip of bunting 
 that was crawling slowly up the halyards of the 
 semaphore. A second dripping rag answered it 
 from the semaphore in front of the Custom- 
 House, and MacWilliams laughed nervously and 
 shut the glass. 
 
 "It s red," he said; "they ve come." 
 
 They had planned to wear white duck suits, and 
 go out in a launch with a flag flying, and they 
 had made MacWilliams purchase a red cummer-
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 bund and a pith helmet; but they tumbled into 
 the launch now, wet and bedraggled as they were, 
 and raced Weimer in his boat, with the American 
 flag clinging to the pole, to the side of the big 
 steamer as she drew slowly Into the bay. Other 
 row-boats and launches and lighters began to push 
 out from the wharves, men appeared under the 
 sagging awnings of the bare houses along the 
 river-front, and the custom and health officers in 
 shining oil-skins and puffing damp cigars clam 
 bered over the side. 
 
 "I see them," cried Langham, jumping up and 
 rocking the boat in his excitement. "There they 
 are in the bow. That s Hope waving. Hope ! 
 hullo, Hope!" he shouted, "hullo!" Clay recog 
 nized her standing between the younger sister and 
 her father, with the rain beating on all of them, 
 and waving her hand to Langham. The men took 
 off their hats, and as they pulled up alongside she 
 bowed to Clay and nodded brightly. They 
 sent Langham up the gangway first, and waited 
 until he had made his greetings to his family 
 alone. 
 
 "We have had a terrible trip, Mr. Clay," Miss 
 Langham said to him, beginning, as people will, 
 with the last few days, as though they were of 
 the greatest importance; "and we could see nothing 
 of you at the mines at all as we passed only a 
 
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 wet flag, and a lot of very friendly workmen, who 
 cheered and fired off pans of dynamite." 
 
 "They did, did they?" said Clay, with a satis 
 fied nod. "That s all right, then. That was a royal 
 salute in your honor. Kirkland had that to do. 
 He s the foreman of A opening. I am awfully 
 sorry about this rain it spoils everything." 
 
 "I hope it hasn t spoiled our breakfast," said 
 Mr. Langham. "We haven t eaten anything this 
 morning, because we wanted a change of diet, and 
 the captain told us we should be on shore before 
 now." 
 
 "We have some carriages for you at the wharf, 
 and we will drive you right out to the Palms," 
 said young Langham. " It s shorter by water, 
 but there s a hill that the girls couldn t climb to 
 day. That s the house we built for you, Gover 
 nor, with the flag-pole, up there on the hill; and 
 there s your ugly old pier; and that s where we 
 live, in the little shack above it, with the tin roof; 
 and that opening to the right is the terminus of 
 the railroad MacWilliams built. Where s Mac- 
 Williams? Here, Mac, I want you to know my 
 father. This is MacWilliams, sir, of whom I 
 wrote you." 
 
 There was some delay about the baggage, and 
 in getting the party together in the boats that 
 Langham and the Consul had brought; and after 
 
 73
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 they had stood for some time on the wet dock, 
 hungry and damp, it was rather aggravating to 
 find that the carriages which Langham had or 
 dered to be at one pier had gone to another. So 
 the new arrivals sat rather silently under the shed 
 of the levee on a row of cotton-bales, while Clay 
 and MacWilliams raced off after the carriages. 
 
 "I wish we didn t have to keep the hood down," 
 young Langham said, anxiously, as they at last 
 proceeded heavily up the muddy streets; "it makes 
 it so hot, and you can t see anything. Not that 
 it s worth seeing in all this mud and muck, but it s 
 great when the sun shines. We had planned it 
 all so differently. 1 
 
 He was alone with his family now in one car 
 riage, and the other men and the servants were 
 before them in two others. It seemed an inter 
 minable ride to them all to the strangers, and 
 to the men who were anxious that they should 
 be pleased. They left the city at last, and toiled 
 along the limestone road to the Palms, rocking 
 from side to side and sinking in ruts filled with 
 rushing water. When they opened the flap of the 
 hood the rain beat in on them, and when they 
 closed it they stewed in a damp, warm atmosphere 
 of wet leather and horse-hair. 
 
 "This is worse than a Turkish bath," said Hope, 
 faintly. "Don t you live anywhere, Ted?" 
 
 74
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "Oh, it s not far now," said the younger broth 
 er, dismally; but even as he spoke the carnage 
 lurched forward and plunged to one side and came 
 to a halt, and they could hear the streams rushing 
 past the wheels like the water at the bow of a 
 boat. A wet, black face appeared at the opening 
 of the hood, and a man spoke despondently in 
 Spanish. 
 
 "He says we re stuck in the mud," explained 
 Langham. He looked at them so beseechingly 
 and so pitifully, with the perspiration streaming 
 down his face, and his clothes damp and bedrag 
 gled, that Hope leaned back and laughed, and his 
 father patted him on the knee. "It can t be any 
 worse," he said, cheerfully; "it must mend now. 
 It is not your fault, Ted, that we re starving and 
 lost in the mud." 
 
 Langham looked out to find Clay and MacWil- 
 liams knee-deep in the running water, with their 
 shoulders against the muddy wheels, and the driver 
 lashing at the horses and dragging at their bridles. 
 He sprang out to their assistance, and Hope, shak 
 ing off her sister s detaining hands, jumped out 
 after him, laughing. She splashed up the hill to 
 the horses heads, motioning to the driver to re 
 lease his hold on their bridles. 
 
 "That is not the way to treat a horse," she said. 
 "Let me have them. Are you men all ready down 
 
 75
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 there?" she called. Each of the three men glued 
 a shoulder to a wheel, and clenched his teeth and 
 nodded. "All right, then," Hope called back. 
 She took hold of the huge Mexican bits close to 
 the mouth, where the pressure was not so cruel, 
 and then coaxing and tugging by turns, and slip 
 ping as often as the horses themselves, she drew 
 them out of the mud, and with the help of the 
 men back of the carriage pulled it clear until it 
 stood free again at the top of the hill. Then she 
 released her hold on the bridles and looked down, 
 in dismay, at her frock and hands, and then up at 
 the three men. They appeared so utterly miser 
 able and forlorn in their muddy garments, and 
 with their faces washed with the rain and perspi 
 ration, that the girl gave way suddenly to an un 
 controllable shriek of delight. The men stared 
 blankly at her for a moment, and then inquiringly 
 at one another, and as the humor of the situation 
 struck them they burst into an echoing shout of 
 laughter, which rose above the noise of the wind 
 and rain, and before which the disappointments 
 and trials of the morning w r ere swept away. Be 
 fore they reached the Palms the sun was out and 
 shining with fierce brilliancy, reflecting its rays on 
 every damp leaf, and drinking up each glistening 
 pool of water. 
 
 MacWilliams and Clay left the Langhams alone 
 76
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 together, and returned to the office, where they 
 assured each other again and again that there was 
 no doubt, from what each had heard different 
 members of the family say, that they were greatly 
 pleased with all that had been prepared for them. 
 
 "They think it s fine !" said young Langham, 
 who had run down the hill to tell them about it. 
 "I tell you, they are pleased. I took them all 
 over the house, and they just exclaimed every min 
 ute. Of course," he said, dispassionately, "I 
 thought they d like it, but I had no idea it would 
 please them as much as it has. My Governor is 
 so delighted with the place that he s sitting out 
 there on the veranda now, rocking himself up and 
 down and taking long breaths of sea-air, just as 
 though he owned the whole coast-line." 
 
 Langham dined with his people that night, Clay 
 and MacWilliams having promised to follow him 
 up the hill later. It was a night of much moment 
 to them all, and the two men ate their dinner in 
 silence, each considering what the coming of the 
 strangers might mean to him. 
 
 As he was leaving the room MacWSlliams 
 stopped and hovered uncertainly in the doorway. 
 
 "Are you going to get yourself into a dress-suit 
 to-night?" he asked. Clay said that he thought 
 he would; he wanted to feel quite clean once more. 
 
 "Well, all right, then," the other returned, re- 
 77
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 luctantly. "I ll do it for this once, if you mean 
 to, but you needn t think I m going to make a 
 practice of it, for I m not. I haven t worn a 
 dress-suit," he continued, as though explaining his 
 principles in the matter, "since your spread when 
 we opened the railroad that s six months ago; 
 and the time before that I wore one at MacGol- 
 derick s funeral. MacGolderick blew himself up 
 at Puerto Truxillo, shooting rocks for the break 
 water. We never found all of him, but we gave 
 what we could get together as fine a funeral as those 
 natives ever saw. The boys, they wanted to make 
 him look respectable, so they asked me to lend 
 them my dress-suit, but I told them I meant to 
 wear it myself. That s how I came to wear a 
 dress-suit at a funeral. It was either me or Mac 
 Golderick." 
 
 "MacWilliams," said Clay, as he stuck the toe 
 of one boot into the heel of the other, "if I had 
 your imagination I d give up railroading and take 
 to writing war clouds for the newspapers." 
 
 "Do you mean you don t believe that story?" 
 MacWilliams demanded, sternly. 
 
 "I do," said Clay, "I mean I don t." 
 
 "Well, let it go," returned MacWilliams, 
 gloomily; "but there s been funerals for less than 
 that, let me tell you." 
 
 A half-hour later MacWilliams appeared in the 
 78
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 door and stood gazing attentively at Clay arrang 
 ing his tie before a hand-glass, and then at himself 
 in his unusual apparel. 
 
 "No wonder you voted to dress up," he ex 
 claimed finally, in a tone of personal injury. 
 "That s not a dress-suit you ve got on anyway. 
 It hasn t any tails. And I hope for your sake, 
 Mr. Clay," he continued, his voice rising in plain 
 tive indignation, "that you are not going to play 
 that scarf on us for a vest. And you haven t got 
 a high collar on, either. That s only a rough blue 
 print of a dress-suit. Why, you look just as com 
 fortable as though you were going to enjoy your 
 self and you look cool, too." 
 
 "Well, why not?" laughed Clay. 
 
 "Well, but look at me," cried the other. "Do 
 I look cool? Do I look happy or comfortable? 
 No, I don t. I look just about the way I feel, 
 like a fool undertaker. I m going to take this 
 thing right off. You and Ted Langham can wear 
 your silk scarfs and bobtail coats, if you like, but 
 if they don t want me in white duck they don t 
 get me." 
 
 When they reached the Palms, Clay asked Miss 
 Langham if she did not want to see his view. 
 "And perhaps, if you appreciate it properly, I will 
 make you a present of it," he said, as he walked 
 before her down the length of the veranda. 
 
 79
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "It would be very selfish to keep it all to my 
 self," she said. "Couldn t we share it?" They 
 had left the others seated facing the bay, with 
 MacWilliams and young Langham on the broad 
 steps of the veranda, and the younger sister and 
 her father sitting in long bamboo steamer-chairs 
 above them. 
 
 Clay and Miss Langham were quite alone. 
 From the high cliff on which the Palms stood they 
 could look down the narrow inlet that joined the 
 ocean and see the moonlight turning the water 
 into a rippling ladder of light and gilding the 
 dark green leaves of the palms near them with 
 a border of silver. Directly below them lay the 
 waters of the bay, reflecting the red and green 
 lights of the ships at anchor, and beyond them 
 again were the yellow lights of the town, rising 
 one above the other as the city crept up the hill. 
 And back of all were the mountains, grim and 
 mysterious, with white clouds sleeping in their 
 huge valleys, like masses of fog. 
 
 Except for the ceaseless murmur of the insect 
 life about them the night was absolutely still 
 so still that the striking of the ships bells in the 
 harbor came to them sharply across the surface of 
 the water, and they could hear from time to time 
 the splash of some great fish and the steady creak 
 ing of an oar in a rowlock that grew fainter and 
 
 80
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 fainter as it grew further away, until it was 
 drowned in the distance. Miss Langham was for 
 a long time silent. She stood with her hands 
 clasped behind her, gazing from side to side into 
 the moonlight, and had apparently forgotten that 
 Clay was present. 
 
 "Well," he said at last, "I think you appreciate 
 it properly. I was afraid you would exclaim about 
 it, and say it was fine, or charming, or something." 
 
 Miss Langham turned to him and smiled slight 
 ly. "And you told me once that you knew me 
 so very well," she said. 
 
 Clay chose to forget much that he had said on 
 that night when he had first met her. He knew 
 that he had been bold then, and had dared to be 
 so because he did not think he would see her again; 
 but, now that he was to meet her every day 
 through several months, it seemed better to him 
 that they should grow to know each other as they 
 really were, simply and sincerely, and without 
 forcing the situation in any way. 
 
 So he replied, "I don t know you so well now. 
 You must remember I haven t seen you for a 
 year." 
 
 "Yes, but you hadn t seen me for twenty-two 
 years then," she answered. "I don t think you 
 have changed much," she went on. "I expected 
 to find you gray with cares. Ted wrote us about 
 
 81
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 the way you work all day at the mines and sit 
 up all night over calculations and plans and re 
 ports. But you don t show it. When are you 
 going to take us over the mines? To-morrow? 
 I am very anxious to see them, but I suppose 
 father will w r ant to inspect them first. Hope 
 knows all about them, I believe; she knows their 
 names, and how much you have taken out, and 
 how much you have put in, too, and what Mac- 
 Williams s railroad cost, and who got the con 
 tract for the ore pier. Ted told us in his letters, 
 and she used to work it out on the map in father s 
 study. She is a most energetic child; I think some 
 times she should have been a boy. I wish I could 
 be the help to any one that she is to my father 
 and to me. Whenever I am blue or down she 
 makes fun of me, and 
 
 "Why should you ever be blue?" asked Clay, 
 abruptly. 
 
 "There is no real reason, I suppose," the girl 
 answered, smiling, "except that life is so very easy 
 for me that I have to invent some woes. I should 
 be better for a few reverses." And then she went 
 on in a lower voice, and turning her head away, 
 "In our family there is no woman older than I 
 am to whom I can go with questions that trouble 
 me. Hope is like a boy, as I said, and plays with 
 Ted, and my father is very busy with his affairs, 
 
 82
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 and since ray mother died I have been very much 
 alone. A man cannot understand. And I cannot 
 understand why I should be speaking to you about 
 myself and my troubles, except " she added, a 
 little wistfully, "that you once said you were in 
 terested in me, even if it was as long as a year ago. 
 And because I want you to be very kind to me, 
 as you have been to Ted, and I hope that we are 
 going to be very good friends." 
 
 She was so beautiful, standing in the shadow 
 with the moonlight about her and with her hand 
 held out to him, that Clay felt as though the scene 
 were hardly real. He took her hand in his and 
 held it for a moment. His pleasure in the sweet 
 friendliness of her manner and in her beauty was 
 so great that it kept him silent. 
 
 "Friends!" he laughed under his breath. a l 
 don t think there is much danger of our not being 
 friends. The danger lies," he went on, smiling, 
 "in my not being able to stop there." 
 
 Miss Langham made no sign that she had heard 
 him, but turned and walked out into the moon 
 light and down the porch to where the others were 
 sitting. 
 
 Young Langham had ordered a native orchestra 
 of guitars and reed instruments from the town to 
 serenade his people, and they were standing in 
 front of the house in the moonlight as Miss Lang- 
 
 83
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 ham and Clay came forward. They played the 
 shrill, eerie music of their country with a passion 
 and feeling that filled out the strange tropical 
 scene around them; but Clay heard them only as 
 an accompaniment to his own thoughts, and as a 
 part of the beautiful night and the tall, beautiful 
 girl who had dominated it. He watched her from 
 the shadow as she sat leaning easily forward and 
 looking into the night. The moonlight fell full 
 upon her, and though she did not once look at him 
 or turn her head in his direction, he felt as though 
 she must be conscious of his presence, as though 
 there were already an understanding between them 
 which she herself had established. She had asked 
 him to be her friend. That was only a pretty 
 speech, perhaps; but she had spoken of herself, 
 and had hinted at her perplexities and her loneli 
 ness, and he argued that while it was no compli 
 ment to be asked to share another s pleasure, it 
 must mean something when one was allowed to 
 learn a little of another s troubles. 
 
 And while his mind was flattered and aroused 
 by this promise of confidence between them, he 
 was rejoicing in the rare quality of her beauty, 
 and in the thought that she was to be near him, 
 and near him here, of all places. It seemed a very 
 wonderful thing to Clay something that could 
 only have happened in a novel or a play. For 
 
 84
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 while the man and the hour frequently appeared 
 together, he had found that the one woman in 
 the world and the place and the man was a much 
 more difficult combination to bring into effect. No 
 one, he assured himself thankfully, could have de 
 signed a more lovely setting for his love-story, if 
 it was to be a love-story, and he hoped it was, 
 than this into which she had come of her own free 
 will. It was a land of romance and adventure, 
 of guitars and latticed windows, of warm brilliant 
 days and gorgeous silent nights, under purple 
 heavens and white stars. And he was to have her 
 all to himself, with no one near to interrupt, no 
 other friends, even, and no possible rival. She 
 was not guarded now by a complex social system, 
 with its responsibilities. He was the most lucky 
 of men. Others had only seen her in her draw 
 ing-room or in an opera-box, but he was free to 
 ford mountain-streams at her side, or ride with 
 her under arches of the great palms, or to play 
 a guitar boldly beneath her window. He was free 
 to come and go at any hour; not only free to do 
 so, but the very nature of his duties made It neces 
 sary that they should be thrown constantly to 
 gether. 
 
 The music of the violins moved him and touched 
 him deeply, and stirred depths at which he had 
 not guessed. It made him humble and deeply 
 
 85
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 grateful, and he felt how mean and unworthy he 
 was of such great happiness. He had never loved 
 any woman as he felt that he could love this wom 
 an, as he hoped that he was to love her. For 
 he was not so far blinded by her beauty and by 
 what he guessed her character to be, as to im 
 agine that he really knew her. He only knew 
 what he hoped she was, what he believed the soul 
 must be that looked out of those kind, beautiful 
 eyes, and that found utterance in that wonderful 
 voice which could control him and move him by a 
 word. 
 
 He felt, as he looked at the group before him, 
 how lonely his own life had been, how hard he 
 had worked for so little for what other men 
 found ready at hand when they were born into 
 the world. He felt almost a touch of self-pity 
 at his own imperfectness; and the power of his 
 will and his confidence in himself, of w r hich he 
 was so proud, seemed misplaced and little. And 
 then he wondered if he had not neglected chances; 
 but in answer to this his injured self-love rose to 
 rebut the idea that he had wasted any portion of 
 his time, and he assured himself that he had don>e 
 the work that he had cut out for himself to do 
 as best he could; no one but himself knew with 
 what courage and spirit. And so he sat combating 
 with himself, hoping one moment that she would 
 
 86
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 prove what he believed her to be, and the next, 
 scandalized at his temerity in daring to think of 
 her at all. 
 
 The spell lifted as the music ceased, and Clay 
 brought himself back to the moment and looked 
 about him as though he were waking from a 
 dream and had expected to see the scene disap 
 pear and the figures near him fade into the moon 
 light. 
 
 Young Langham had taken a guitar from one 
 of the musicians and pressed it upon MacW.il- 
 liams, with imperative directions to sing such and 
 such songs, of which, in their isolation, they had 
 grown to think most highly, and MacWilliams 
 was protesting in much embarrassment. 
 
 MacWilliams had a tenor voice which he mal 
 treated in the most vilianous manner by singing 
 directly through his nose. He had a taste for 
 sentimental songs, in which "kiss" rhymed with 
 "bliss," and in which "the people cry" was always 
 sure to be followed with "as she goes by, that s 
 pretty Katie Moody," or "Rosie Mclntyre." He 
 had gathered his songs at the side of camp-fires, 
 and in canteens at the first section-house of a new 
 railroad, and his original collection of ballads had 
 had but few additions in several years. MacWil 
 liams at first was shy, which was quite a new de 
 velopment, until he made them promise to laugh 
 
 87
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 if they wanted to laugh, explaining that he would 
 not mind that so much as he would the idea that 
 he thought he was serious. 
 
 The song of which he was especially fond was 
 one called "He never cares to wander from his 
 own Fireside," which was especially appropriate 
 in coming from a man who had visited almost 
 every spot in the three Americas, except his home, 
 in ten years. MacWilliams always ended the 
 evening s entertainment with this chorus, no mat 
 ter how many times it had been sung previously, 
 and seemed to regard it with much the same ven 
 eration that the true Briton feels for his national 
 anthem. 
 
 The words of the chorus were: 
 
 * He never cares to wander from his own fireside, 
 He never cares to wander or to roam. 
 With his babies on his knee, 
 He s as happy as can be, 
 For there s no place like Home, Sweet Home." 
 
 MacWilliams loved accidentals, and what he 
 called "barber-shop chords." He used a beautiful 
 accidental at the word "be," of which he was very 
 fond, and he used to hang on that note for a long 
 time, so that those in the extreme rear of the hall, 
 as he was wont to explain, should get the full 
 benefit of it. And it was his custom to empha- 
 
 88
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 size "for" in the last line by speaking Instead of 
 singing it, and then coming to a full stop before 
 dashing on again with the excellent truth that 
 "there is NO place like Home, Sweet Home." 
 
 The men at the mines used to laugh at him and 
 his song at first, but they saw that it was not to 
 be so laughed away, and that he regarded it with 
 some peculiar sentiment. So they suffered him to 
 sing it in peace. 
 
 MacWilliams went through his repertoire to the 
 unconcealed amusement of young Langham and 
 Hope. When he had finished he asked Hope if 
 she knew a comic song of which he had only heard 
 by reputation. One of the men at the mines had 
 gained a certain celebrity by claiming to have 
 heard it in the States, but as he gave a completely 
 new set of words to the tune of the "Wearing of 
 the Green" as the true version, his veracity was 
 doubted. Hope said she knew it, of course, and 
 they all went into the drawing-room, where the 
 men grouped themselves about the piano. It was 
 a night they remembered long afterward. Hope 
 sat at the piano protesting and laughing, but sing 
 ing the songs of which the new-comers had be 
 come so weary, but which the three men heard 
 open-eyed, and hailed with shouts of pleasure. 
 The others enjoyed them and their delight, as 
 though they were people In a play expressing them- 
 
 89
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 selves in this extravagant manner for their enter* 
 tainment, until they understood how poverty- 
 stricken their lives had been and that they were 
 not only enjoying the music for itself, but because 
 it was characteristic of all that they had left be 
 hind them. It was pathetic to hear them boast 
 of having read of a certain song in such a paper, 
 and of the fact that they knew the plot of a late 
 comic opera and the names of those who had 
 played in it, and that it had or had not been ac 
 ceptable to the New York public. 
 
 "Dear me," Hope would cry, looking over her 
 shoulder with a despairing glance at her sister and 
 father, "they don t even know Tommy Atkins !" 
 
 It was a very happy evening for them all, fore 
 shadowing, as it did, a continuation of just such 
 evenings. Young Langham was radiant with 
 pleasure at the good account which Clay had given 
 of him to his father, and Mr. Langham was grati 
 fied, and proud of the manner in which his son 
 and heir had conducted himself; and MacWil- 
 liams, who had never before been taken so sim 
 ply and sincerely by people of a class that he 
 had always held in humorous awe, felt a sudden 
 accession of dignity, and an unhappy fear that 
 when they laughed at what he said, it was be 
 cause its sense was so utterly different from their 
 point of view, and not because they saw the hu- 
 
 90
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 mor of it. He did not know what the word "snob" 
 signified, and in his roughened, easy-going nature 
 there was no touch of false pride; but he could 
 not help thinking how surprised his people would 
 be if they could see him, whom they regarded as 
 a wanderer and renegade on the face of the earth 
 and the prodigal of the family, and for that reason 
 the best loved, leaning over a grand piano, while 
 one daughter of his much-revered president played 
 comic songs for his delectation, and the other, who 
 according to the newspapers refused princes daily, 
 and who was the most wonderful creature he had 
 ever seen, poured out his coffee and brought it to 
 him with her own hands. 
 
 The evening came to an end at last, and the 
 new arrivals accompanied their visitors to the ve 
 randa as they started to their cabin for the night. 
 Clay was asking Mr. Langham when he wished 
 to visit the mines, and the others were laughing 
 over farewell speeches, when young Lanrrham 
 startled them all by hurrying down the length of 
 the veranda and calling on them to follow. 
 
 "Look!" he cried, pointing down the inlet. 
 "Here comes a man-of-war, or a yacht. Isn t she 
 smart-looking? What can she want here at this 
 hour of the night? They won t let them land. 
 Can you make her out, MacWilliams?" 
 
 A long, white ship was steaming slowly up the 
 91
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 inlet, and passed within a few hundred feet of the 
 cliff on which they were standing. 
 
 "Why, it s the Vesta !" exclaimed Hope, won- 
 deringly. "I thought she wasn t coming for a 
 week?" 
 
 "It can t be the Vesta !" said the elder sister; 
 "she was not to have sailed from Havana until 
 to-day." 
 
 "What do you mean?" asked Langham. "Is 
 it King s boat? Do you expect him here? Oh, 
 what fun! I say, Clay, here s the Vesta, Reggie 
 King s yacht, and he s no end of a sport. We 
 can go all over the place now, and he can land 
 us right at the door of the mines if we want 
 to." 
 
 "Is it the King I met at dinner that night?" 
 asked Clay, turning to Miss Langham. 
 
 "Yes," she said. "He wanted us to come down 
 on the yacht, but we thought the steamer would 
 be faster; so he sailed without us and was to have 
 touched at Havana, but he has apparently changed 
 his course. Doesn t she look like a phantom ship 
 in the moonlight?" 
 
 Young Langham thought he could distinguish 
 King among the white figures on the bridge, and 
 tossed his hat and shouted, and a man in the stern 
 of the yacht replied with a wave of his hand. 
 
 "That must be Mr. King," said Hope. "He 
 92
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 didn t bring any one with him, and he seems to 
 be the only man aft." 
 
 They stood watching the yacht as she stopped 
 with a rattle of anchor-chains and a confusion of 
 orders that came sharply across the water, and 
 then the party separated and the three men walked 
 down the hill, Langham eagerly assuring the other 
 two that King was a very good sort, and telling 
 them what a treasure-house his yacht was, and how 
 he would have probably brought the latest papers, 
 and that he would certainly give a dance on board 
 in their honor. 
 
 The men stood for some short time together, 
 after they had reached the office, discussing the 
 great events of the day, and then with cheer 
 ful good-nights disappeared into their separate 
 rooms. 
 
 An hour later Clay stood without his coat, and 
 with a pen in his hand, at MacWilliams s bedside 
 and shook him by the shoulder. 
 
 "I m not asleep," said MacWilliams, sitting up; 
 "what is It? What have you been doing?" he 
 demanded. "Not working?" 
 
 "There were some reports came in after we 
 left," said Clay, "and I find I will have to see 
 Kirkland to-morrow morning. Send them word 
 to run me down on an engine at five-thirty, will 
 you? I am sorry to have to wake you, but I 
 
 93
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 couldn t remember in which shack that engineer 
 lives." 
 
 MacWilliams jumped from his bed and began 
 kicking about the floor for his boots. "Oh, that s 
 all right," he said. "I wasn t asleep, I was just " 
 he lowered his voice that Langham might not hear 
 him through the canvas partitions "I was just 
 lying awake playing duets with the President, and 
 racing for the International Cup in my new cen 
 tre-board yacht, that s all!" 
 
 MacWilliams buttoned a waterproof coat over 
 his pajamas and stamped his bare feet into his 
 boots. "Oh, I tell you, Clay," he said with a grim 
 chuckle, "we re mixing right in with the four hun 
 dred, we are ! I m substitute and understudy when 
 anybody gets ill. We re right in our own class 
 at last! Pure amateurs with no professional rec 
 ord against us. Me and President Langham, I 
 guess!" He struck a match and lit the smoky 
 wick in a tin lantern. 
 
 "But now," he said, cheerfully, "my time being 
 too valuable for me to sleep, I will go wake up 
 that nigger engine-driver and set his alarm clock 
 at five-thirty. Five-thirty, I believe you said. All 
 right; good-night." And whistling cheerfully to 
 himself MacWilliams disappeared up the hill, his 
 body hidden in the darkness and his legs showing 
 
 94
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 fantastically in the light of the swinging lan 
 tern. 
 
 Clay walked out upon the veranda and stood 
 with his back to one of the pillars. MacWilliams 
 and his pleasantries disturbed and troubled him. 
 Perhaps, after all, the boy was right. It seemed 
 absurd, but it was true. They were only em 
 ployees of Langham two of the thousands of 
 young men who were working all over the United 
 States to please him, to make him richer, to whom 
 he was only a name and a power, which meant an 
 increase of salary or the loss of place. 
 
 Clay laughed and shrugged his shoulders. He 
 knew that he was not in that class; if he did good 
 work it was because his self-respect demanded it 
 of him; he did not w r ork for Langham or the 
 Olancho Mining Company (Limited). And yet 
 he turned with almost a feeling of resentment 
 toward the \vhite yacht lying calmly in magnificent 
 repose a hundred yards from his porch. 
 
 He could see her as clearly in her circle of elec 
 tric lights as though she were a picture and held 
 In the light of a stereopticon on a screen. He 
 could see her white decks, and the rails of polished 
 brass, and the comfortable wicker chairs and gay 
 cushions and flat coils of rope, and the tapering 
 masts and intricate rigging. How easy it was 
 
 95
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 made for some men ! This one had come like the 
 prince in the fairy tale on his magic carpet. If 
 Alice Langham were to leave Valencia that next 
 day, Clay could not follow her. He had his du 
 ties and responsibilities; he was at another man s 
 bidding. 
 
 But this Prince Fortunatus had but to raise an 
 chor and start in pursuit, knowing that he would 
 be welcome wherever he found her. That was 
 the worst of it to Clay, for he knew that men did 
 not follow women from continent to continent 
 without some assurance of a friendly greeting. 
 Clay s mind went back to the days when he was 
 a boy, when his father was absent fighting for a 
 lost cause; when his mother taught in a little 
 schoolhouse under the shadow of Pike s Peak, and 
 when Kit Carson was his hero. He thought of 
 the poverty of those days poverty so mean and 
 hopeless that it was almost something to feel 
 shame for; of the days that followed when, an 
 orphan and without a home, he had sailed away 
 from New Orleans to the Cape. How the mind 
 of the mathematician, which he had inherited from 
 the Boston schoolmistress, had been swayed by 
 the spirit of the soldier, which he had inherited 
 from his father, and which led him from the 
 mines of South Africa to little wars in Madagas 
 car, Egypt, and Algiers. It had been a life as 
 
 96
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 restless as the seaweed on a rock. But as he 
 looked back to its poor beginnings and admitted 
 to himself its later successes, he gave a sigh of 
 content, and shaking off the mood stood up and 
 paced the length of the veranda. 
 
 He looked up the hill to the low-roofed bunga 
 low with the palm-leaves about it, outlined against 
 the sky, and as motionless as patterns cut in tin. 
 He had built that house. He had built it for her. 
 That was her room where the light was shining 
 out from the black bulk of the house about it like 
 a star. And beyond the house he saw his five 
 great mountains, the knuckles of the giant hand, 
 with its gauntlet of iron that lay shut and clenched 
 in the face of the sea that swept up whimpering 
 before it. Clay felt a boyish, foolish pride rise 
 in his breast as he looked toward the great mines 
 he had discovered and opened, at the iron 
 mountains that were crumbling away before his 
 touch. 
 
 He turned his eyes again to the blazing yacht, 
 and this time there was no trace of envy in them. 
 He laughed instead, partly with pleasure at the 
 thought of the struggle he scented in the air, and 
 partly at his own braggadocio. 
 
 "I m not afraid," he said, smiling, and shaking 
 his head at the white ship that loomed up like 
 a man-of-war in the black waters. "I m not 
 
 97
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 afraid to fight you for anything worth fighting 
 for." 
 
 He bowed his bared head in good-night toward 
 the light on the hill, as he turned and walked back 
 into his bedroom. "And I think," he murmured 
 grimly, as he put out the light, "that she is worth 
 fighting for." 
 
 98
 
 IV 
 
 work which had called Clay to the mines 
 JL kept him there for some time, and it was 
 not until the third day after the arrival of the 
 Langhams that he returned again to the Palms. 
 On the afternoon when he climbed the hill 
 to the bungalow he found the Langhams as 
 he had left them, with the difference that King 
 now occupied a place in the family circle. Clay 
 was made so welcome, and especially so by King, 
 that he felt rather ashamed of his sentiments 
 toward him, and considered his three days of ab 
 sence to be well repaid by the heartiness of their 
 greeting. 
 
 "For myself," said Mr. Langham, "I don t be 
 lieve you had anything to do at the mines at all. 
 I think you went away just to show us how neces 
 sary you are. But if you want me to make a good 
 report of our resident director on my return, you 
 had better devote yourself less to the mines while 
 you are here and more to us." Clay said he was 
 glad to find that his duties were to be of so pleas 
 ant a nature, and asked them what they had seen 
 and what they had done. 
 
 99
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 They told him they had been nowhere, but had 
 waited for his return in order that he might act 
 as their guide. 
 
 "Then you should see the city at once," said 
 Clay, "and I will have the volante brought to the 
 door, and we can all go in this afternoon. There 
 is room for the four of you inside, and I can sit 
 on the box-seat with the driver." 
 
 "No," said King, "let Hope or me sit on the 
 box-seat. Then we can practise our Spanish on 
 the driver." 
 
 "Not very well," Clay replied, "for the driver 
 sits on the first horse, like a postilion. It s a sort 
 of tandem without reins. Haven t you seen it yet? 
 We consider the volante our proudest exhibit." 
 So Clay ordered the volante to be brought out, 
 and placed them facing each other In the open 
 carriage, while he climbed to the box-seat, from 
 which position of vantage he pointed out and ex 
 plained the objects of interest they passed, after 
 the manner of a professional guide. It was a 
 warm, beautiful afternoon, and the clear mists of 
 the atmosphere intensified the rich blue of the sky, 
 and the brilliant colors of the houses, and the dif 
 ferent shades of green of the trees and bushes that 
 lined the highroad to the capital. 
 
 "To the right, as we descend," said Clay, speak 
 ing over his shoulder, "you see a tin house. It is 
 
 100
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 the home of the resident director of the Olancho 
 Mining Company (Limited), and of his able lieu 
 tenants, Mr. Theodore Langham and Mr. Mac- 
 Williams. The building on the extreme left is the 
 round-house, in which Mr. MacWilliams stores 
 his three locomotive engines, and in the far middle- 
 distance is Mr. MacWilliams himself in the act of 
 repairing a water-tank. He is the one in a suit 
 of blue overalls, and as his language at such times 
 is free, we will drive rapidly on and not embarrass 
 him. Besides," added the engineer, with the happy 
 laugh of a boy who had been treated to a holiday, 
 "I am sure that I am not setting him the example 
 of fixity to duty which he should expect from his 
 chief." 
 
 They passed between high hedges of Spanish 
 bayonet, and came to mud cabins thatched with 
 palm-leaves, and alive with naked, little brown- 
 bodied children, who laughed and cheered to them 
 as they passed. 
 
 "It s a very beautiful country for the pueblo," 
 was Clay s comment. "Different parts of the same 
 tree furnish them with food, shelter, and clothing, 
 and the sun gives them fuel, and the Government 
 changes so often that they can always dodge the 
 tax-collector." 
 
 From the mud cabins they came to more sub 
 stantial one-story houses of adobe, with the walls 
 
 101
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 painted in two distinct colors, blue, pink, or yel 
 low, with red-tiled roofs, and the names with 
 which they had been christened in bold black let 
 ters above the entrances. Then the carriage rat 
 tled over paved streets, and they drove between 
 houses of two stories painted more decorously in 
 pink and light blue, with wide-open windows, 
 guarded by heavy bars of finely wrought iron and 
 ornamented with scrollwork in stucco. The prin 
 cipal streets were given up to stores and cafes, all 
 wide open to the pavement and protected from the 
 sun by brilliantly striped awnings, and gay with 
 the national colors of Olancho in flags and stream 
 ers. In front of them sat officers in uniform, and 
 the dark-skinned dandies of Valencia, in white 
 duck suits and Panama hats, toying with tortoise- 
 shell canes, which could be converted, if the occa 
 sion demanded, into blades of Toledo steel. In 
 the streets were priests and bare-legged mule- 
 drivers, and ragged ranchmen with red-caped 
 cloaks hanging to their sandals, and negro women, 
 with bare shoulders and long trains, vending lot 
 tery tickets and rolling huge cigars between their 
 lips. It was an old story to Clay and King, but 
 none of the others had seen a Spanish-American 
 city before; they were familiar with the Far East 
 and the Mediterranean, but not with the fierce, hot 
 tropics of their sister continent, and so their eyes 
 
 1 02
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 were wide open, and they kept calling continually 
 to one another to notice some new place or figure. 
 
 They in their turn did not escape from notice or 
 comment. The two sisters would have been con 
 spicuous anywhere in a queen s drawing-room or 
 on an Indian reservation. Theirs was a type that 
 the caballeros and senoritas did not know. With 
 them dark hair was always associated with dark 
 complexions, the rich duskiness of which was al 
 ways vulgarized by a coat of powder, and this fair 
 blending of pink and white skin under masses of 
 black hair was strangely new, so that each of the 
 few women who were to be met on the street 
 turned to look after the carriage, while the Amer 
 ican women admired their mantillas, and felt that 
 the straw sailor-hats they wore had become heavy 
 and unfeminine. 
 
 Clay was very happy in picking out what was 
 most characteristic and picturesque, and every 
 street into which he directed the driver to take 
 them seemed to possess some building or monu 
 ment that was of peculiar interest. They did not 
 know that he had mapped out this ride many times 
 before, and was taking them over a route which 
 he had already travelled with them in imagination. 
 King knew what the capital would be like before 
 he entered it, from his experience of other South 
 American cities, but he acted as though it were 
 
 103
 
 Soldiers ot Fortune 
 
 all new to him, and allowed Clay to explain, and 
 to give the reason for those features of the place 
 that were unusual and characteristic. Clay noticed 
 this and appealed to him from time to time, when 
 he was in doubt; but the other only smiled back 
 and shook his head, as much as to say, "This is 
 your city; they would rather hear about it from 
 you." 
 
 Clay took them to the principal shops, where 
 the two girls held whispered consultations over 
 lace mantillas, which they had at once determined 
 to adopt, and bought the gorgeous paper fans, 
 covered with brilliant pictures of bull-fighters in 
 suits of silver tinsel; and from these open stores 
 he led them to a dingy little shop, where there 
 was old silver and precious hand-painted fans of 
 mother-of-pearl that had been pawned by families 
 who had risked and lost all in some revolution; 
 and then to another shop, where two old maiden 
 ladies made a particularly good guava; and to 
 tobacconists, where the men bought a few of the 
 native cigars, which, as they were a monopoly 
 of the Government, were as bad as Government 
 monopolies always are. 
 
 Clay felt a sudden fondness for the city, so 
 grateful was he to it for entertaining her as it did, 
 and for putting its best front forward for her de 
 lectation. He wanted to thank some one for build- 
 
 104
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 ing the quaint old convent, with its yellow walls 
 washed to an orange tint, and black in spots with 
 dampness ; and for the fountain covered with green 
 moss that stood before its gate, and around which 
 were gathered the girls and women of the neigh 
 borhood with red water-jars on their shoulders, 
 and little donkeys buried under stacks of yellow 
 sugar-cane, and the negro drivers of the city s 
 green water-carts, and the blue wagons that car 
 ried the manufactured ice. Toward five o clock 
 they decided to spend the rest of the day in 
 the city, and to telephone for the two boys to 
 join them at La Venus, the great restaurant 
 on the plaza, where Clay had invited them to 
 dine. 
 
 He suggested that they should fill out the time 
 meanwhile by a call on the President, and after 
 a search for cards in various pocketbooks, they 
 drove to the Government palace, which stood in 
 an open square in the heart of the city. 
 
 As they arrived the President and his wife were 
 leaving for their afternoon drive on the Alameda, 
 the fashionable parade-ground of the city, and the 
 state carnage and a squad of cavalry appeared 
 from the side of the palace as the visitors drove 
 up to the entrance. But at the sight of Clay, 
 General Alvarez and his wife retreated to the 
 house again and made them welcome. The Presi- 
 
 105
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 dent led the men into his reception-room and en 
 tertained them with champagne and cigarettes, 
 not manufactured by his Government; and his 
 wife, after first conducting the girls through the 
 state drawing-room, where the late sunlight shone 
 gloomily on strange old portraits of assassinated 
 presidents and victorious generals, and garish yel 
 low silk furniture, brought them to her own apart 
 ments, and gave them tea after a civilized fashion, 
 and showed them how glad she was to see some 
 one of her own world again. 
 
 During their short visit Madame Alvarez talked 
 a greater part of the time herself, addressing what 
 she said to Miss Langham, but looking at Hope. 
 It was unusual for Hope to be singled out in this 
 way when her sister was present, and both the 
 sisters noticed it and spoke of it afterwards. They 
 thought Madame Alvarez very beautiful and dis 
 tinguished-looking, and she impressed them, even 
 after that short knowledge of her, as a woman 
 of great force of character. 
 
 "She was very well dressed for a Spanish wom 
 an," was Miss Langham s comment, later in the 
 afternoon. "But everything she had on was just 
 a year behind the fashions, or twelve steamer days 
 behind, as Mr. MacWilliams puts it." 
 
 "She reminded me," said Hope, "of a black 
 panther I saw once in a circus." 
 
 1 06
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "Dear me!" exclaimed the sister, "I don t see 
 that at all. Why?" 
 
 Hope said she did not know why; she was not 
 given to analyzing her impressions or offering rea 
 sons for them. "Because the panther looked so 
 unhappy," she explained, doubtfully, "and rest 
 less; and he kept pacing up and down all the 
 time, and hitting his head against the bars as he 
 walked as though he liked the pain. Madame 
 Alvarez seemed to me to be just like that as 
 though she were shut up somewhere and wanted 
 to be free." 
 
 When Madame Alvarez and the two sisters had 
 joined the men, they all walked together to the 
 terrace, and the visitors waited until the President 
 and his wife should take their departure. Hope 
 noticed, in advance of the escort of native cavalry, 
 an auburn-haired, fair-skinned young man who was 
 sitting an English saddle. The officer s eyes were 
 blue and frank and attractive-looking, even as 
 they then were fixed ahead of him with a military 
 lack of expressi-on ; but he came to life very sud 
 denly when the President called to him, and prod 
 ded his horse up to the steps and dismounted. He 
 was introduced by Alvarez as "Captain Stuart of 
 my household troops, late of the Gordon High 
 landers. Captain Stuart," said the President, lay 
 ing his hand affectionately on the younger man s 
 
 107
 
 epaulette, "takes care of my life and the safety 
 of my home and family. He could have the com 
 mand of the army if he wished; but no, he is fond 
 of us, and he tells me we are in more need of 
 protection from our friends at home than from 
 our enemies on the frontier. Perhaps he knows 
 best. I trust him, Mr. Langham," added the 
 President, solemnly, "as I trust no other man in 
 all this country." 
 
 "I am very glad to meet Captain Stuart, I am 
 sure," said Mr. Langham, smiling, and appreci 
 ating how the shyness of the Englishman must be 
 suffering under the praises of the Spaniard. And 
 Stuart was indeed so embarrassed that he flushed 
 under his tan, and assured Clay, while shaking 
 hands with them all, that he was delighted to 
 make his acquaintance; at which the others 
 laughed, and Stuart came to himself sufficiently 
 to laugh with them, and to accept Clay s invita 
 tion to dine with them later. 
 
 They found the two boys waiting in the cafe 
 of the restaurant where they had arranged to meet, 
 and they ascended the steps together to the table 
 on the balcony that Clay had reserved for them. 
 
 The young engineer appeared at his best as 
 host. The responsibility of seeing that a half- 
 dozen others were amused and content sat well 
 upon him; and as course followed course, and the 
 
 1 08
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 wines changed, and the candles left the rest of 
 the room in darkness and showed only the table 
 and the faces around it, they all became rapidly 
 more merry and the conversation intimately fa 
 miliar. 
 
 Clay knew the kind of table-talk to which the 
 Langhams were accustomed, and used the material 
 around his table in such a way that the talk there 
 was vastly different. From King he drew forth 
 tales of the buried cities he had first explored, and 
 then robbed of their ugliest idols. He urged Mac- 
 Williams to tell carefully edited stories of life 
 along the Chagres before the Scandal came, and 
 of the fastnesses of the Andes; and even Stuart 
 grew braver and remembered "something of the 
 same sort" he had seen at Fort Nilt, in Upper 
 Burma. 
 
 "Of course," was Clay s comment at the con 
 clusion of one of these narratives, "being an Eng 
 lishman, Stuart left out the point of the story, 
 which was that he blew in the gates of the fort 
 with a charge of dynamite. He got a D. S. O. for 
 doing it." 
 
 "Being an Englishman," said Hope, smiling 
 encouragingly on the conscious Stuart, "he nat 
 urally would leave that out." 
 
 Mr. Langham and his daughters formed an 
 eager audience. They had never before met at 
 
 ing
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 one table three men who had known such expe 
 riences, and who spoke of them as though they 
 must be as familiar in the lives of the others as 
 in their own men who spoiled in the telling 
 stories that would have furnished incidents for 
 melodramas, and who impressed their hearers 
 more with what they left unsaid, and what was 
 only suggested, than what in their view was the 
 most important point. 
 
 The dinner came to an end at last, and Mr. 
 Langham proposed that they should go down and 
 walk with the people in the plaza; but his two 
 daughters preferred to remain as spectators on 
 the balcony, and Clay and Stuart stayed with 
 them. 
 
 "At last!" sighed Clay, under his breath, seat 
 ing himself at Miss Langham s side as she sat 
 leaning forward with her arms upon the railing 
 and looking down into the plaza below. She 
 made no sign at first that she had heard him, but 
 as the voices of Stuart and Hope rose from the 
 other end of the balcony she turned her head and 
 asked, "Why at last?" 
 
 "Oh, you couldn t understand," laughed Clay. 
 "You have not been looking forward to just one 
 thing and then had it come true. It is the only 
 thing that ever did come true to me, and I thought 
 it never would." 
 
 "You don t try to make me understand," said 
 no
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 *he girl, smiling, but without turning her eyes 
 from the moving spectacle below her. Clay con 
 sidered her challenge silently. He did not know 
 just how much it might mean from her, and the 
 smile robbed it of all serious intent; so he, too, 
 turned and looked down into the great square be 
 low them, content, now that she was alone with 
 him, to take his time. 
 
 At one end of the plaza the President s band 
 was playing native waltzes that came throbbing 
 through the trees and beating softly above the 
 rustling skirts and clinking spurs of the senoritas 
 and officers, sweeping by in two opposite circles 
 around the edges of the tessellated pavements. 
 Above the palms around the square arose the dim, 
 white facade of the cathedral, with the bronze 
 statue of Anduella, the liberator of Olancho, who 
 answered with his upraised arm and cocked hat 
 the cheers of an imaginary populace. Clay s had 
 been an unobtrusive part in the evening s enter 
 tainment, but he saw that the others had been 
 pleased, and felt a certain satisfaction in thinking 
 that King himself could not have planned and 
 carried out a dinner more admirable in every way. 
 He was gratified that they should know him to be 
 not altogether a barbarian. But what he best 
 liked to remember was that whenever he had 
 spoken she had listened, even when her eyes were 
 turned away and she was pretending to listen to 
 
 in
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 some one else. He tormented himself by wonder 
 ing whether this was because he interested her only 
 as a new and strange character, or whether she 
 felt in some way how eagerly he was seeking her 
 approbation. For the first time in his life he 
 found himself considering what he was about to 
 say, and he suited it for her possible liking. It 
 was at least some satisfaction that she had, if 
 only for the time being, singled him out as of 
 especial interest, and he assured himself that 
 the fault would be his if her interest failed. 
 He no longer looked on himself as an out 
 sider. 
 
 Stuart s voice arose from the farther end of the 
 balcony, where the white figure of Hope showed 
 dimly in the darkness. 
 
 "They are talking about you over there," said 
 Miss Langham, turning toward him. 
 
 "Well, I don t mind," answered Clay, "as long 
 as they talk about me over there." 
 
 Miss Langham shook her head. "You are very 
 frank and audacious," she replied, doubtfully, 
 "but it is rather pleasant as a change." 
 
 "I don t call that audacious, to say I don t want 
 to be interrupted when I am talking to you. 
 Aren t the men you meet generally audacious?" 
 he asked. "I can see why not though," he con 
 tinued, "you awe them." 
 
 IT2
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "I can t think that s a nice way to affect people," 
 protested Miss Langham, after a pause. "I don t 
 awe you, do I?" 
 
 "Oh, you affect me in many different ways," 
 returned Clay, cheerfully. "Sometimes I am very 
 much afraid of you, and then again my feelings 
 are only those of unlimited admiration." 
 
 "There, again, what did I tell you?" said Miss 
 Langham. 
 
 "Well, I can t help doing that," said Clay. 
 "That is one of the few privileges that is left 
 to a man in my position it doesn t matter what 
 I say. That is the advantage of being of no ac 
 count and hopelessly detrimental. The eligible 
 men of the world, you see, have to be so very 
 careful. A Prime Minister, for instance, can t 
 talk as he wishes, and call names if he wants to, 
 or write letters, even. Whatever he says is so 
 important, because he says it, that he must be very 
 discreet. I am so unimportant that no one minds 
 what I say, and so I say it. It s the only com 
 fort I have." 
 
 "Are you in the habit of going around the world 
 saying whatever you choose to every woman you 
 happen to to Miss Langham hesitated. 
 
 "To admire very much," suggested Clay. 
 
 "To meet," corrected Miss Langham. "Be 
 cause, if you are, It is a very dangerous and selfish
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 practice, and I think your theory of non-respon 
 sibility is a very wicked one." 
 
 "Well, I wouldn t say it to a child," mused 
 Clay, "but to one who must have heard it be 
 fore" 
 
 "And who, you think, would like to hear it 
 again, perhaps," interrupted Miss Langham. 
 
 "No, not at all," said Clay. "I don t say it to 
 give her pleasure, but because it gives me pleasure 
 to say what I think." 
 
 "If we are to continue good friends, Mr. Clay," 
 said Miss Langham, in decisive tones, "we must 
 keep our relationship on more of a social and less 
 of a personal basis. It was all very well that first 
 night I met you," she went on, in a kindly tone. 
 "You rushed in then and by a sort of tour de force 
 made me think a great deal about myself and also 
 about you. Your stories of cherished photographs 
 and distant devotion and all that were very inter 
 esting; but now we are to be together a great deal, 
 and if we are to talk about ourselves all the time, 
 I for one shall grow very tired of it. As a matter 
 of fact you don t know what your feelings are 
 concerning me, and until you do we will talk less 
 about them and more about the things you are 
 certain of. When are you going to take us to 
 the mines, for instance, and who was Anduella, 
 the Liberator of Olancho, on that pedestal over 
 
 114
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 there? Now, isn t that much more Instruc 
 tive?" 
 
 Clay smiled grimly and made no answer, but 
 sat with knitted brows looking out across the trees 
 of the plaza. His face was so serious and he was 
 apparently giving such earnest consideration to 
 what she had said that Miss Langham felt an 
 uneasy sense of remorse. And, moreover, the 
 young man s profile, as he sat looking away from 
 her, was very fine, and the head on his broad 
 shoulders was as well-modelled as the head of an 
 Athenian statue. Miss Langham was not insensi 
 ble to beauty of any sort, and she regarded the 
 profile with perplexity and with a softening spirit. 
 
 "You understand," she said, gently, being quite 
 certain that she did not understand this new order 
 of young man herself. "You are not offended 
 with me?" she asked. 
 
 Clay turned and frowned, and then smiled in 
 a puzzled way and stretched out his hand toward 
 the equestrian statue in the plaza. "Andulla or 
 Anduella, the Treaty-Maker, as they call him, 
 was born in 1700," he said; "he was a most pict 
 uresque sort of a chap, and freed this country 
 from the yoke of Spain. One of the stories they 
 tell of him gives you a good idea of his charac 
 ter." And so, without any change of exoression 
 or reference to what had just passed between 
 
 US
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 Clay continued through the remainder of their 
 stay on the balcony to discourse in humorous, 
 graphic phrases on the history of Olancho, its he 
 roes, and its revolutions, the buccaneers and pirates 
 of the old days, and the concession-hunters and 
 filibusters of the present. It was some time before 
 Miss Langham was able to give him her full at 
 tention, for she was considering whether he could 
 be so foolish as to have taken offence at what she 
 said, and whether he would speak of it again, and 
 in wondering whether a personal basis for con 
 versation was not, after all, more entertaining 
 than anecdotes of the victories and heroism of 
 dead and buried Spaniards. 
 
 "That Captain Stuart," said Hope to her sister, 
 as they drove home together through the moon 
 light, "I like him very much. He seems to have 
 such a simple idea of what is right and good. 
 It is like a child talking. Why, I am really much 
 older than he is in everything but years why is 
 that?" 
 
 "I suppose it s because we always talk before 
 you as though you were a grown-up person," said 
 her sister. "But I agree with you about Captain 
 Stuart; only, why is he down here? If he is a 
 gentleman, why is he not in his own army? Was 
 he forced to leave it?" 
 
 "Oh, he seems to have a very good position 
 116
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 hre," said Mr. Langham. "In England, at his 
 age, he would be only a second-lieutenant. Don t 
 you remember what the President said, that he 
 would trust him with the command of his army? 
 That s certainly a responsible position, and it 
 shows great confidence in him." 
 
 "Not so great, it seems to me," said King," care 
 lessly, "as he is showing him in making him the 
 guardian of his hearth and home. Did you hear 
 what he said to-day? He guards my home and 
 my family. I don t think a man s home and 
 family are among the things he can afford to 
 leave to the protection of stray English subalterns. 
 From all I hear, it would be better if President 
 Alvarez did less plotting and protected his own 
 house himself." 
 
 "The young man did not strike me as the sort 
 of person," said Mr. Langham, warmly, "who 
 would be likely to break his word to the man who 
 is feeding him and sheltering him, and whose uni 
 form he wears. I don t think the President s 
 home is in any danger from within. Madame 
 Alvarez " 
 
 Clay turned suddenly In his place on the box- 
 seat of the carriage, where he had been sitting, 
 a silent, misty statue in the moonlight, and peered 
 down on those in the carriage below him. 
 
 "Madame Alvarez needs no protection, as you
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 were about to say, Mr. Langham," he interrupt 
 ed, quickly. "Those who know her could say 
 nothing against her, and those who do not know 
 her would not so far forget themselves as to dare 
 to do it. Have you noticed the effect of the 
 moonlight on the walls of the convent?" he 
 continued, gently. "It makes them quite 
 white." 
 
 "No," exclaimed Mr. Langham and King, hur 
 riedly, as they both turned and gazed w r ith ab 
 sorbing interest at the convent on the hills above 
 them. 
 
 Before the sisters went to sleep that night Hope 
 came to the door of her sister s room and watched 
 Alice admiringly as she sat before the mirror 
 brushing out her hair. 
 
 "I .think it s going to be fine down here; don t 
 you, Alice?" she asked. "Everything is so dif 
 ferent from what it is at home, and so beautiful, 
 and I like the men we ve met. Isn t that Mr. 
 MacWilliams funny and he is so tough. And 
 Captain Stuart it is a pity he s shy. The only 
 thing he seems to be able to talk about is Mr. 
 Clay. He worships Mr. Clay!" 
 
 "Yes," assented her sister, "I noticed on the 
 balcony that you seemed to have found some way 
 to make him speak." 
 
 "Well, that was it. He likes to talk about Mr. 
 118
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 Clay, and I wanted to listen. Oh ! he is a fine 
 man. He has done more exciting things " 
 
 "Who? Captain Stuart?" 
 
 "No Mr. Clay. He s been in three real wars 
 and about a dozen little ones, and he s built thou 
 sands of miles of railroads, I don t know how 
 many thousands, but Captain Stuart knows; and 
 he built the highest bridge in Peru. It swings in 
 the air across a chasm, and it rocks when the wind 
 blows. And the German Emperor made him a 
 Baron." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "I don t know. I couldn t understand. It was 
 something about plans for fortifications. He, Mr. 
 Clay, put up a fort in the harbor of Rio Janeiro 
 during a revolution, and the officers on a German 
 man-of-war saw it and copied the plans, and the 
 Germans built one just like it, only larger, on the 
 Baltic, and when the Emperor found out whose 
 design it was, he sent Mr. Clay the order of some- 
 thing-or-other, and made him a Baron." 
 
 "Really," exclaimed the elder sister, "isn t he 
 afraid that some one will marry him for his title?" 
 
 "Oh, well, you can laugh, but I think it s pretty 
 fine, and so does Ted," added Hope, with the air 
 of one who propounds a final argument. 
 
 "Oh, I beg your pardon," laughed Alice. "If 
 Ted approves we must all go down and worship." 
 
 119
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "And father, too," continued Hope. "He said 
 he thought Mr. Clay was one of the most re 
 markable men for his years that he had ever 
 met." 
 
 Miss Langham s eyes were hidden by the masses 
 of her black hair that she had shaken over her 
 face, and she said nothing. 
 
 "And I liked the way he shut Reggie King up 
 too," continued Hope, stoutly, "when he and fa 
 ther were talking that way about Madame Al 
 varez." 
 
 "Yes, upon my word," exclaimed her sister, im 
 patiently tossing her hair back over her shoulders. 
 "I really cannot see that Madame Alvarez is in 
 need of any champion. I thought Mr. Clay made 
 it very much worse by rushing in the way he did. 
 Why should he take it upon himself to correct a 
 man as old as my father?" 
 
 "I suppose because Madame Alvarez is a friend 
 of his," Hope answered. 
 
 "My dear child, a beautiful woman can always 
 find some man to take her part," said Miss Lang- 
 ham. "But I ve no doubt," she added, rising and 
 kissing her sister good-night, "that he is all that 
 your Captain Stuart thinks him; but he is not 
 going to keep us awake any longer, is he, even 
 if he does show such gallant interest in old la 
 dies?" 
 
 120
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "Old ladies!" exclaimed Hope in amazement. 
 "Why, Alice!" 
 
 But her sister only laughed and waved her out 
 of the room, and Hope walked away frowning 
 in much perplexity. 
 
 122
 
 THE visit to the city was imitated on the 
 three succeeding evenings by similar excur 
 sions. On one night they returned to the plaza, 
 and the other two were spent in drifting down the 
 harbor and along the coast on King s yacht. The 
 President and Madame Alvarez were King s guests 
 on one of these moonlight excursions, and were 
 saluted by the proper number of guns, and their 
 native band played on the forward deck. Clay 
 felt that King held the centre of the stage for the 
 time being, and obliterated himself completely. 
 He thought of his own paddle-wheel tug-boat that 
 he had had painted and gilded in her honor, and 
 smiled grimly. 
 
 MacWilliams approached him as he sat leaning 
 back on the rail and looking up, with the eye of 
 a man who had served before the mast, at the lace- 
 work of spars and rigging above him. MacWil 
 liams came toward him on tiptoe and dropped 
 carefully into a wicker chair. "There don t seem 
 to be any door-mats on this boat," he said. "In 
 every other respect she seems fitted out quite com-
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 plete ; all the latest magazines and enamelled bath 
 tubs, and Chinese waiter-boys with cock-tails up 
 their sleeves. But there ought to be a mat at the 
 top of each of those stairways that hang over the 
 side, otherwise some one is sure to soil the deck. 
 Have you been down in the engine-room yet?" he 
 asked. "Well, don t go, then," he advised, sol 
 emnly. "It will only make you feel badly. I have 
 asked the Admiral if I can send those half-breed 
 engine drivers over to-morrow to show them what 
 a clean engine-room looks like. I ve just been 
 talking to the chief. His name s MacKenzie, and 
 I told him I was Scotch myself, and he said it 
 was a greet pleesure to find a gentleman so well 
 acquainted with the movements of machinery. He 
 thought I was one of King s friends, I guess, so 
 I didn t tell him I pulled a lever for a living 
 myself. I gave him a cigar though, and he said, 
 Thankee, sir, and touched his cap to me." 
 
 MacWilliams chuckled at the recollection, and 
 crossed his legs comfortably. "One of King s 
 cigars, too," he said. "Real Havana; he leaves 
 them lying around loose in the cabin. Have you 
 had one? Ted Langham and I took about a box 
 between us." 
 
 Clay made no answer, and MacWilliams settled 
 himself contentedly in the great wicker chair and 
 puffed grandly on a huge cigar. 
 
 123
 
 Soldiers oi Fortune 
 
 "It s demoralizing, isn t it?" he said at last. 
 
 "What?" asked Clay, absently. 
 
 "Oh, this associating with white people again, 
 as we re doing now. It spoils you for tortillas 
 and rice, doesn t it? It s going to be great fun 
 while it lasts, but when they ve all gone, and Ted s 
 gone, too, and the yacht s vanished, and we fall 
 back to tramping around the plaza twice a week, 
 it won t be gay, will it? No; it won t be gay, 
 We re having the spree of our lives now, I guess, 
 but there s going to be a difference in the morn- 
 ing." 
 
 "Oh, it s worth a headache, I think," said Clay, 
 as he shrugged his shoulders and walked away to 
 find Miss Langham. 
 
 The day set for the visit to the mines rose bright 
 and clear. MacWilliams had rigged out his sin 
 gle passenger-car with rugs and cushions, and flags 
 flew from its canvas top that flapped and billowed 
 in the wind of the slow-moving train. Their ob 
 servation-car, as MacWilliams termed it, was 
 placed in front of the locomotive, and they were 
 pushed gently along the narrow rails between for 
 ests of Manaca palms, and through swamps and 
 jungles, and at times over the limestone formation 
 along the coast, where the waves dashed as high 
 as the smokestack of the locomotive, covering the 
 excursionists with a sprinkling of white spray. 
 
 124
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 Thousands of land-crabs, painted red and black 
 and yellow, scrambled with a rattle like dead men s 
 bones across the rails to be crushed by the hun 
 dreds under the wheels of the Juggernaut; great 
 lizards ran from sunny rocks at the sound of their 
 approach, and a deer bounded across the tracks 
 fifty feet in front of the cow-catcher. MacWil- 
 liams escorted Hope out into the cab of the loco 
 motive, and taught her how to increase and slack 
 en the speed of the engine, until she showed an 
 unruly desire to throw the lever open altogether 
 and shoot them off the rails into the ocean be 
 yond. 
 
 Clay sat at the back of the car with Miss Lang- 
 ham, and told her and her father of the difficulties 
 with which young MacWilliams had had to con 
 tend. Miss Langham found her chief pleasure 
 in noting the attention which her father gave to 
 all that Clay had to tell him. Knowing her father 
 as she did, and being familiar with his manner 
 toward other men, she knew that he was treating 
 Clay with unusual consideration. And this pleased 
 her greatly, for it justified her own interest in him. 
 She regarded Clay as a discovery of her own, but 
 she was glad to have her opinion of him shared 
 by others. 
 
 Their coming was a great event in the history 
 of the mines. Kirkland, the foreman, and Chap- 
 
 125
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 man, who handled the dynamite, Welmer, the 
 Consul, and the native doctor, who cared for the 
 fever-stricken and the casualties, were all at the 
 station to meet them in the whitest of white duck 
 and with a bunch of ponies to carry them on their 
 tour of inspection, and the village of mud-cabins 
 and zinc-huts that stood clear of the bare sun 
 baked earth on whitewashed wooden piles was as 
 clean as Clay s hundred policemen could sweep it. 
 Mr. Langham rode in advance of the cavalcade, 
 and the head of each of the different departments 
 took his turn in riding at his side, and explained 
 what had been done, and showed him the proud 
 result. The village was empty, except for the 
 families of the native workmen and the ownerless 
 dogs, the scavengers of the colony, that snarled 
 and barked and ran leaping in front of the ponies 
 heads. 
 
 Rising abruptly above the zinc village, lay the 
 first of the five great hills, with its open front cut 
 into great terraces, on which the men clung like 
 flies on the side of a wall, some of them in groups 
 around an opening, or in couples pounding a steel 
 bar that a fellow-workman turned in his bare 
 hands, while others gathered about the panting 
 steam-drills that shook the solid rock with fierce, 
 short blows, and hid the men about them in a 
 throbbing curtain of steam. Self-important little 
 
 126
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 dummy-engines, dragging long trains of ore-cars, 
 rolled and rocked on the uneven surface of the 
 ground, and swung around corners with warning 
 screeches of their whistles. They could see, on 
 peaks outlined against the sky, the signal-men wav 
 ing their red flags, and then plunging down the 
 mountain-side out of danger, as the earth rumbled 
 and shook and vomited out a shower of stones 
 and rubbish into the calm hot air. It was a spec 
 tacle of desperate activity and puzzling to the un 
 initiated, for it seemed to be scattered over an 
 unlimited extent, with no head nor direction, and 
 with each man, or each group of men, working 
 alone, like rag-pickers on a heap of ashes. 
 
 After the first half-hour of curious interest Miss 
 Langham admitted to herself that she was disap 
 pointed. She confessed she had hoped that Clay 
 would explain the meaning of the mines to her, 
 and act as her escort over the mountains which 
 he was blowing into pieces. 
 
 But it was King, somewhat bored by the cease 
 less noise and heat, and her brother, incoherently 
 enthusiastic, who rode at her side, while Clay 
 moved on in advance and seemed to have forgotten 
 her existence. She watched him pointing up at 
 the openings in the mountains and down at the 
 ore-road, or stooping to pick up a piece of ore 
 from the ground in cowboy fashion, without leav- 
 
 127
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 ing his saddle, and pounding it on the pommel 
 before he passed it to the others. And, again, he 
 would stand for minutes at a time up to his boot- 
 tops in the sliding waste, with his bridle rein over 
 his arm and his thumbs in his belt, listening to 
 what his lieutenants were saying, and glancing 
 quickly from them to Mr. Langham to see if he 
 were following the technicalities of their speech. 
 All of the men who had welcomed the appearance 
 of the women on their arrival with such obvious 
 delight and with so much embarrassment seemed 
 now as oblivious of their presence as Clay him 
 self. 
 
 Miss Langham pushed her horse up into the 
 group beside Hope, who had kept her pony close 
 at Clay s side from the beginning; but she could 
 not make out what it was they were saying, and 
 no one seemed to think it necessary to explain. 
 She caught Clay s eye at last and smiled brightly 
 at him; but, after staring at her for fully a minute, 
 until Kirkland had finished speaking, she heard 
 him say, "Yes, that s it exactly; in open-face work 
 ings there is no other way," and so showed her 
 that he had not been even conscious of her pres 
 ence. But a few minutes later she saw him look 
 up at Hope, folding his arms across his chest 
 tightly and shaking his head. "You see it was the 
 only thing to do," she heard him say, as though 
 
 128
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 he were defending some course of action, and as 
 though Hope were one of those who must be con 
 vinced. "If we had cut the opening on the first 
 level, there was the danger of the whole thing 
 sinking in, so we had to begin to clear away at 
 the top and work down. That s why I ordered 
 the bucket-trolley. As it turned out, we saved 
 money by it." 
 
 Hope nodded her head slightly. "That s what 
 I told father when Ted wrote us about it," she 
 said; "but you haven t done it at Mount Wash 
 ington." 
 
 "Oh, but it s like this, Miss " Kirkland re 
 plied, eagerly. "It s because Washington is a sol- 
 ider foundation. We can cut openings all over 
 it and they won t cave, but this hill is most all 
 rubbish; it s the poorest stuff in the mines." 
 
 Hope nodded her head again and crowded her 
 pony on after the moving group, but her sister 
 and King did not follow. King looked at her 
 and smiled. "Hope is very enthusiastic," he said. 
 "Where did she pick it up?" 
 
 "Oh, she and father used to go over it in his 
 study last winter after Ted came down here," 
 Miss Langham answered, with a touch of impa 
 tience in her tone. "Isn t there some place where 
 we can go to get out of this heat?" 
 
 Weimer, the Consul, heard her and led her back 
 129
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 to Kirkland s bungalow, that hung like an eagle s 
 nest from a projecting cliff. From its porch they 
 could look down the valley over the greater part 
 of the mines, and beyond to where the Caribbean 
 Sea lay flashing in the heat. 
 
 "I saw very few Americans down there, Wei- 
 mer," said King. "I thought Clay had imported 
 a lot of them." 
 
 "About three hundred altogether, wild Irish 
 men and negroes," said the Consul; "but we use 
 the native soldiers chiefly. They can stand the 
 climate better, and, besides," he added, "they act 
 as a reserve in case of trouble. They are Men- 
 doza s men, and Clay is trying to win them away 
 from him." 
 
 "I don t understand," said King. 
 
 Weimer looked around him and waited until 
 Kirkland s servant had deposited a tray full of 
 bottles and glasses on a table near them, and had 
 departed. "The talk is," he said, "that Alvarez 
 means to proclaim a dictatorship in his own favor 
 before the spring elections. You ve heard of that, 
 haven t you?" King shook his head. 
 
 "Oh, tell us about it," said Miss Langham; "I 
 should so like to be in plots and conspiracies." 
 
 "Well, they re rather common down here," con 
 tinued the Consul, "but this one ought to interest 
 you especially, Miss Langham, because it is a 
 
 130
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 woman who is at the head of it. Madame Al 
 varez, you know, was the Countess Manueleta 
 Hernandez before her marriage. She belongs to 
 one of the oldest families in Spain. Alvarez mar 
 ried her in Madrid, when he was Minister there, 
 and when he returned to run for President, she 
 came with him. She s a tremendously ambitious 
 woman, and they do say she wants to convert the 
 republic into a monarchy, and make her husband 
 King, or, more properly speaking, make herself 
 Queen. Of course that s absurd, but she is sup 
 posed to be plotting to turn Olancho into a sort 
 of dependency of Spain, as it was long ago, and 
 that s why she is so unpopular." 
 
 "Indeed?" interrupted Miss Langham, "I did 
 not know that she was unpopular." 
 
 "Oh, rather. Why, her party is called the Roy 
 alist Party already, and only a week before you 
 came the Liberals plastered the city with denun 
 ciatory placards against her, calling on the people 
 to drive her out of the country." 
 
 "What cowards to fight a woman!" exclaimed 
 Miss Langham. 
 
 "Well, she began it first, you see," said the 
 Consul. 
 
 "Who is the leader of the fight against her?" 
 asked King. 
 
 "General Mendoza; he is commander-in-chief
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 and has the greater part of the army with him, 
 but the other candidate, old General Rojas, is the 
 popular choice and the best of the three. He is 
 Vice-President now, and if the people were ever 
 given a fair chance to vote for the man they want, 
 he would unquestionably be the next President. 
 The mass of the people are sick of revolutions. 
 They ve had enough of them, but they will have 
 to go through another before long, and if it turns 
 against Dr. Alvarez, I m afraid Mr. Langham 
 will have hard work to hold these mines. You 
 see, Mendoza has already threatened to seize the 
 whole plant and turn it into a Government mo 
 nopoly." 
 
 "And if the other one, General Rojas, gets into 
 power, will he seize the mines, too?" 
 
 "No, he is honest, strange to relate," laughed 
 Weimer, "but he won t get in. Alvarez will make 
 himself dictator, or Mendoza will make himself 
 President. That s why Clay treats the soldiers 
 here so well. He thinks he may need them against 
 Mendoza. You may be turning your saluting-gun 
 on the city yet, Commodore," he added, smiling, 
 "or, what is more likely, you ll need the yacht to 
 take Miss Langham and the rest of the family 
 out of the country." 
 
 King smiled and Miss Langham regarded Wei 
 mer with flattering interest. "I ve got a quick- 
 
 132
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 firing gun below decks," said King, "that I used 
 in the Malaysian Peninsula on a junkful of Black 
 Flags, and I think I ll have it brought up. And 
 there are about thirty of my men on the yacht 
 who wouldn t ask for their wages in a year if I d 
 let them go on shore and mix up in a fight. When 
 do you suppose this " 
 
 A heavy step and the jingle of spurs on the bare 
 floor of the bungalow startled the conspirators, 
 and they turned and gazed guiltily out at the 
 mountain-tops above them as Clay came hurrying 
 out upon the porch. 
 
 "They told me you were here," he said, speak 
 ing to Miss Langham. "I m so sorry it tired you. 
 I should have remembered it is a rough trip 
 when you re not used to it," he added, remorse 
 fully. "But I m glad Weimer was here to take 
 care of you." 
 
 "It was just a trifle hot and noisy," said Miss 
 Langham, smiling sweetly. She put her hand to 
 her forehead with an expression of patient suffer 
 ing. "It made my head ache a little, but it was 
 most interesting." She added, "You are certainly 
 to be congratulated on your work." 
 
 Clay glanced at her doubtfully with a troubled 
 look, and turned away his eyes to the busy scene 
 below him. He was greatly hurt that she should 
 have cared so little, and indignant at himself for 
 
 133
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 being so unjust. Why should he expect a woman 
 to find interest in that hive of noise and sweating 
 energy? But even as he stood arguing with him 
 self his eyes fell on a slight figure sitting erect 
 and graceful on her pony s back, her white habit 
 soiled and stained red with the ore of the mines, 
 and green where it had crushed against the leaves. 
 She was coming slowly up the trail with a body 
 guard of half a dozen men crowding closely around 
 her, telling her the difficulties of the work, and 
 explaining their successes, and eager for a share 
 of her quick sympathy. 
 
 Clay s eyes fixed themselves on the picture, and 
 he smiled at its significance. Miss Langham no 
 ticed the look, and glanced below to see what it 
 was that had so interested him, and then back at 
 him again. He was still watching the approach 
 ing cavalcade intently, and smiling to himself. 
 Miss Langham drew in her breath and raised her 
 head and shoulders quickly, like a deer that hears 
 a footstep in the forest, and when Hope presently 
 stepped out upon the porch, she turned quickly 
 toward her, and regarded her steadily, as though 
 she were a stranger to her, and as though she 
 were trying to see her with the eyes of one who 
 looked at her for the first time. 
 
 "Hope!" she said, "do look at your dress!" 
 Hope s face was glowing with the unusual ex- 
 134
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 ercise, and her eyes were brilliant. Her hair had 
 slipped down beneath the visor of her helmet. 
 
 "I am so tired and so hungry." She was 
 laughing and looking directly at Clay. "It has 
 been a wonderful thing to have seen," she said, 
 tugging at her heavy gauntlet, "and to have done," 
 she added. She pulled off her glove and held out 
 her hand to Clay, moist and scarred with the 
 pressure of the reins. 
 
 "Thank you," she said, simply. 
 
 The master of the mines took it with a quick 
 rush of gratitude, and looking into the girl s eyes, 
 saw something there that startled him, so that he 
 glanced quickly past her at the circle of booted 
 men grouped in the door behind her. They were 
 each smiling in appreciation of the tableau; her 
 father and Ted, MacWilliams and Kirkland, and 
 all the others who had helped him. They seemed 
 to envy, but not to grudge, the whole credit which 
 the girl had given to him. 
 
 Clay thought, "Why could it not have been the 
 other?" But he said aloud, "Thank you. You 
 have given me my reward." 
 
 Miss Langham looked down impatiently into 
 the valley below, and found that it seemed more 
 hot and noisy, and more grimy than before. 
 
 135
 
 VI 
 
 LAY believed that Alice Langham s visit to 
 the mines had opened his eyes fully to vast 
 differences between them. He laughed and railed 
 at himself for having dared to imagine that he 
 was in a position to care for her. Confident as 
 he was at times, and sure as he was of his ability 
 in certain directions, he was uneasy and fearful 
 when he matched himself against a man of gentle 
 birth and gentle breeding, and one who, like King, 
 was part of a world of which he knew little, and to 
 which, in his ignorance concerning it, he attributed 
 many advantages that it did not possess. He be 
 lieved that he would always lack the mysterious 
 something which these others held by right of in 
 heritance. He was still young and full of the illu 
 sions of youth, and so gave false values to his own 
 qualities, and values equally false to the qualities he 
 lacked. For the next week he avoided Miss Lang- 
 ham, unless there were other people present, and 
 whenever she showed him special favor, he hastily 
 recalled to his mind her failure to sympathize in 
 his work, and assured himself that if she could 
 not interest herself in the engineer, he did not 
 
 136
 
 Soldiers ot Fortune 
 
 care to have her Interested in the man. Other 
 women had found him attractive in himself; they 
 had cared for his strength of will and mind, and 
 because he was good to look at. But he deter 
 mined that this one must sympathize with his work 
 in the world, no matter how unpicturesque it might 
 seem to her. His work was the best of him, he 
 assured himself, and he would stand or fall with it. 
 
 It was a week after the visit to the mines that 
 President Alvarez gave a great ball in honor of 
 the Langhams, to which all of the important peo 
 ple of Olancho, and the Foreign Ministers were 
 invited. Miss Langham met Clay on the after 
 noon of the day set for the ball, as she was going 
 down the hill to join Hope and her father at din 
 ner on the yacht. 
 
 "Are you not coming, too?" she asked. 
 
 "I wish I could," Clay answered. "King asked 
 me, but a steamer-load of new machinery arrived 
 to-day, and I have to see it through the Custom- 
 House." 
 
 Miss Langham gave an impatient little laugh, 
 and shook her head. "You might wait until we 
 were gone before you bother with your machin 
 ery," she said. 
 
 "When you are gone I won t be in a state of 
 mind to attend to machinery or anything else," 
 Clay answered. 
 
 137
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 Miss Langham seemed so far encouraged by 
 this speech that she seated herself in the boat- 
 house at the end of the wharf. She pushed her 
 mantilla back from her face and looked up at him, 
 smiling brightly. 
 
 " The time has come, the walrus said, " she 
 quoted, " to talk of many things. 
 
 Clay laughed and dropped down beside her. 
 "Well?" he said. 
 
 "You have been rather unkind to me this last 
 week," the girl began, with her eyes fixed stead 
 ily on his. "And that day at the mines when I 
 counted on you so, you acted abominably." 
 
 Clay s face showed so plainly his surprise at 
 this charge, which he thought he only had the 
 right to make, that Miss Langham stopped. 
 
 "I don t understand," said Clay, quietly. "How 
 did I treat you abominably?" 
 
 He had taken her so seriously that Miss Lang- 
 ham dropped her lighter tone and spoke in one 
 more kindly : 
 
 "I went out there to see your work at its best. 
 I was only interested in going because it was your 
 work, and because it was you who had done it all, 
 and I expected that you would try to explain it 
 to me and help me to understand, but you didn t. 
 You treated me as though I had no interest in the 
 matter at all, as though I was not capable of un- 
 
 138
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 derstanding it. You did not seem to care whether 
 I was interested or not. In fact, you forgot me 
 altogether." 
 
 Clay exhibited no evidence of a reproving con 
 science. "I am sorry you had a stupid time," he 
 said, gravely. 
 
 "I did not mean that, and you know I didn t 
 mean that," the girl answered. "I wanted to hear 
 about it from you, because you did it. I wasn t 
 interested so much in what had been done, as I 
 was in the man who had accomplished it." 
 
 Clay shrugged his shoulders impatiently, and 
 looked across at Miss Langham with a troubled 
 smile. 
 
 "But that s just what I don t want," he said. 
 "Can t you see? These mines and other mines 
 like them are all I have in the world. They are 
 my only excuse for having lived in It so long. 
 I want to feel that I ve done something outside 
 of myself, and when you say that you like me 
 personally, it s as little satisfaction to me as it 
 must be to a woman to be congratulated on her 
 beauty, or on her fine voice. That is nothing she 
 has done herself. I should like you to value what 
 I have done, not what I happen to be." 
 
 Miss Langham turned her eyes to the harbor, 
 and it was some short time before she answered. 
 
 "You are a very difficult person to please," she 
 139
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 said, "and most exacting. As a rule men are sat 
 isfied to be liked for any reason. I confess frank 
 ly, since you insist upon it, that I do not rise to 
 the point of appreciating your work as the others 
 do. I suppose it is a fault," she continued, with 
 an air that plainly said that she considered it, on 
 the contrary, something of a virtue. "And if I 
 knew more about it technically, I might see more 
 in it to admire. But I am looking farther on 
 for better things from you. The friends who help 
 us the most are not always those who consider us 
 perfect, are they?" she asked, with a kindly smile. 
 She raised her eyes to the great ore-pier that 
 stretched out across the water, the one ugly blot 
 in the scene of natural beauty about them. "I 
 think that is all very well," she said; "but I cer 
 tainly expect you to do more than that. I have 
 met many remarkable men in all parts of the 
 world, and I know what a strong man is, and 
 you have one of the strongest personalities I have 
 known. But you can t mean that you are content 
 to stop with this. You should be something big 
 ger and more wide-reaching and more lasting. In 
 deed, it hurts me to see you wasting your time here 
 over my father s interests. You should exert that 
 same energy on a broader map. You could make 
 yourself anything you chose. At home you would 
 be your party s leader in politics, or you could be 
 
 140
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 a great general, or a great financier. I say this 
 because I know there are better things in you, and 
 because I want you to make the most of your 
 talents. I am anxious to see you put your powers 
 to something worth while." 
 
 Miss Langham s voice carried with it such a 
 tone of sincerity that she almost succeeded in de 
 ceiving herself. And yet she would have hardly 
 cared to explain just why she had reproached the 
 man before her after this fashion. For she knew 
 that when she spoke as she had done, she was 
 beating about to find some reason that would jus 
 tify her in not caring for him, as she knew she 
 could care as she would not allow herself to care. 
 The man at her side had won her interest from 
 the first, and later had occupied her thoughts so 
 entirely, that it troubled her peace of mind. Yet 
 she would not let her feeling for him wax and 
 grow stronger, but kept it down. And she was 
 trying now to persuade herself that she did this 
 because there was something lacking in him and 
 not in her. 
 
 She was almost angry with him for being so 
 much to her and for not being more acceptable 
 in little things, like the other men she knew. So 
 she found this fault with him in order that she 
 might justify her own lack of feeling. 
 
 But Clay, who only heard the words and could 
 141
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 not go back of them to find the motive, could not 
 know this. He sat perfectly still when she had 
 finished and looked steadily out across the harbor. 
 His eyes fell on the ugly ore-pier, and he winced 
 and uttered a short grim laugh. 
 
 "That s true, what you say," he began, "I 
 haven t done much. You are quite right. Only " 
 he looked up at her curiously and smiled "only 
 you should not have been the one to tell me of it." 
 
 Miss Langham had been so far carried away 
 by her own point of view that she had not con 
 sidered Clay, and now that she saw what mischief 
 she had done, she gave a quick gasp of regret, 
 and leaned forward as though to add some ex 
 planation to what she had said. But Clay stopped 
 her. "I mean by that," he said, "that the great 
 part of the inspiration I have had to do what little 
 I have done came from you. You were a sort of 
 promise of something better to me. You were 
 more of a type than an individual woman, but your 
 picture, the one I carry in my watch, meant all 
 that part of life that I have never known, the 
 sweetness and the nobleness and grace of civil 
 ization, something I hoped I would some day 
 have time to enjoy. So you see," he added, with 
 an uncertain laugh, "it s less pleasant to hear that 
 I have failed to make the most of myself from 
 you than from almost any one else." 
 
 142
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "But, Mr. Clay," protested the girl, anxiously, 
 "I think you have done wonderfully well. I only 
 said that I wanted you to do more. You are 
 so young and you have " 
 
 Clay did not hear her. He was leaning forward 
 looking moodily out across the water, with his 
 folded arms clasped across his knees. 
 
 "I have not made the most of myself," he re 
 peated; "that is what you said." He spoke the 
 words as though she had delivered a sentence. 
 "You don t think well of what I have done, of 
 what I am." 
 
 He drew in his breath and shook his head with 
 a hopeless laugh, and leaned back against the rail 
 ing of the boat-house with the weariness in his 
 attitude of a man who has given up after a long 
 struggle. 
 
 "No," he said with a bitter flippancy in his 
 voice, "I don t amount to much. But, my God!" 
 he laughed, and turning his head away, "when 
 you think what I was ! This doesn t seem much 
 to you, and it doesn t seem much to me now that 
 I have your point of view on it, but when I re 
 member!" Clay stopped again and pressed his 
 lips together and shook his head. His half-closed 
 eyes, that seemed to be looking back into his past, 
 lighted as they fell on King s white yacht, and he 
 raised his arm and pointed to it with a wave of 
 
 143
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 the hand. "When I was sixteen I was a sailor 
 before the mast," he said, "the sort of sailor that 
 King s crew out there wouldn t recognize in the 
 same profession. I was of so little account that 
 I ve been knocked the length of the main deck at 
 the end of the mate s fist, and left to lie bleeding 
 in the scuppers for dead. I hadn t a thing to my 
 name then but the clothes I wore, and I ve had to 
 go aloft in a hurricane and cling to a swinging 
 rope with my bare toes and pull at a wet sheet 
 until my finger-nails broke and started in their 
 sockets; and I ve been a cowboy, with no com 
 panions for six months of the year but eight thou 
 sand head of cattle and men as dumb and untamed 
 as the steers themselves. I ve sat in my saddle 
 night after night, with nothing overhead but the 
 stars, and no sound but the noise of the steers 
 breathing in their sleep. The women I knew were 
 Indian squaws, and the girls of the sailors dance- 
 houses and the gambling-hells of Sioux City and 
 Abilene, and Callao and Port Said. That was 
 what I was and those were my companions. 
 "Why!" he laughed, rising and striding across 
 the boat-house with his hands locked behind him, 
 "I ve fought on the mud floor of a Mexican shack, 
 with a naked knife in my hand, for my last dol 
 lar. I was as low and as desperate as that. And 
 now " Clay lifted his head and smiled. "Now," 
 
 144
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 he said, In a lower voice and addressing Miss 
 Langham with a return of his usual grave po 
 liteness, "I am able to sit beside you and talk to 
 you. I have risen to that. I am quite content." 
 
 He paused and looked at Miss Langham un 
 certainly for a few moments as though in doubt 
 as to whether she would understand him if he con 
 tinued. 
 
 "And though it means nothing to you," he said, 
 "and though as you say I am here as your father s 
 employee, there are other places, perhaps, where 
 I am better known. In Edinburgh or Berlin or 
 Paris, if you were to ask the people of my own 
 profession, they could tell you something of me. 
 If I wished it, I could drop this active work to 
 morrow and continue as an adviser, as an expert, 
 but I like the active part better. I like doing 
 things myself. I don t say, I am a salaried ser 
 vant of Mr. Langham s; I put it differently. I 
 say, There are five mountains of iron. You are 
 to take them up and transport them from South 
 America to North America, where they will be 
 turned into railroads and ironclads. That s my 
 way of looking at it. It s better to bind a laurel 
 to the plough than to call yourself hard names. 
 It makes your work easier almost noble. Can 
 not you see it that way, too?" 
 
 Before Miss Langham could answer, a depre-
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 catory cough from one side of the open boat-house 
 startled them, and turning they saw MacWilliams 
 coming toward them. They had been so intent 
 upon what Clay was saying that he had approached 
 them over the soft sand of the beach without their 
 knowing it. Miss Langham welcomed his arrival 
 with evident pleasure. 
 
 "The launch is waiting for you at the end of 
 the pier," MacWilliams said. Miss Langham 
 rose and the three walked together down the 
 length of the wharf, MacWilliams moving brisk 
 ly in advance in order to enable them to continue 
 the conversation he had interrupted, but they fol 
 lowed close behind him, as though neither of them 
 were desirous of such an opportunity. 
 
 Hope and King had both come for Miss Lang- 
 ham, and while the latter was helping her to a 
 place on the cushions, and repeating his regrets 
 that the men were not coming also, Hope started 
 the launch, with a brisk ringing of bells and a 
 whirl of the wheel and a smile over her shoulder 
 at the figures on the wharf. 
 
 "Why didn t you go?" said Clay; "you have 
 no business at the Custom-House." 
 
 "Neither have you," said MacWilliams. "But 
 I guess we both understand. There s no good 
 pushing your luck too far." 
 
 "What do you mean by that this time?" 
 146
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "Why, what have we to do with all of this?" 
 cried MacWilliams. "It s what I keep telling you 
 every day. We re not in that class, and you re 
 only making it harder for yourself when they ve 
 gone. I call it cruelty to animals myself, having 
 women like that around. Up North, where every 
 body s white, you don t notice it so much, but down 
 here Lord!" 
 
 "That s absurd," Clay answered. "Why should 
 you turn your back on civilization when it comes 
 to you, just because you re not going back to civil 
 ization by the next steamer? Every person you 
 meet either helps you or hurts you. Those girls 
 help us, even if they do make the life here seem 
 bare and mean." 
 
 "Bare and mean!" repeated MacWilliams in 
 credulously. "I think that s just what they don t 
 do. I like it all the better because they re mixed 
 up in it. I never took so much interest in your 
 mines until she took to riding over them, and I 
 didn t think great shakes of my old ore-road, 
 either, but now that she s got to acting as engineer, 
 it s sort of nickel-plated the whole outfit. I m 
 going to name the new engine after her when 
 it gets here if her old man will let me." 
 
 "What do you mean? Miss Langham hasn t 
 been to the mines but once, has she?" 
 
 "Miss Langham!" exclaimed MacWilliams. 
 147
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "No, I mean the other, Miss Hope. She comes 
 out with Ted nearly every day now, and she s 
 learning how to run a locomotive. Just for fun, 
 you know," he added, reassuringly. 
 
 "I didn t suppose she had any intention of join 
 ing the Brotherhood," said Clay. "So she s been 
 out every day, has she? I like that," he com 
 mented, enthusiastically. "She s a fine, sweet girl." 
 
 "Fine, sweet girl!" growled MacWilliams. "I 
 should hope so. She s the best. They don t make 
 them any better than that, and just think, if she s 
 like that now, what will she be when she s grown 
 up, when she s learned a few things? Now her 
 sister. You can see just what her sister will be 
 at thirty, and at fifty, and at eighty. She s thor 
 oughbred and she s the most beautiful woman to 
 look at I ever saw but, my son she is too care 
 ful. She hasn t any illusions, and no sense of hu 
 mor. And a woman with no illusions an d no sense 
 of humor is going to be monotonous. You can t 
 teach her anything. You can t imagine yourself 
 telling her anything she doesn t know. The things 
 we think important don t reach her at all. They re 
 not in her line, and in everything else she knows 
 more than we could ever guess at. But that Miss 
 Hope ! It s a privilege to show her about. She 
 wants to see everything, and learn everything, and 
 she goes poking her head into openings and down 
 
 148
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 shafts like a little fox terrier. And she ll sit still 
 and listen with her eyes wide open and tears in 
 them, too, and she doesn t know it until you can t 
 talk yourself for just looking at her." 
 
 Clay rose and moved on to the house in silence. 
 He was glad that MacWilliams had interrupted 
 him when he did. He wondered whether he un 
 derstood Alice Langham after all. He had seen 
 many fine ladies before during his brief visits to 
 London, and Berlin, and Vienna, and they had 
 shown him favor. He had known other women 
 not so fine. Spanish-American sefioritas through 
 Central and South America, the wives and daugh 
 ters of English merchants exiled along the Pacific 
 coast, whose fair skin and yellow hair whitened 
 and bleached under the hot tropical suns. He had 
 known many women, and he could have quoted 
 
 "Trials and troubles amany, 
 
 Have proved me ; 
 
 One or two women, God bless them f 
 Have loved me." 
 
 But the woman he was to marry must have all 
 the things he lacked. She must fill out and com 
 plete him where he was wanting. This woman 
 possessed all of these things. She appealed to 
 every ambition and to every taste he cherished, 
 and yet he knew that he had hesitated and mis- 
 
 149
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 trusted her, when he should have declared him 
 self eagerly and vehemently, and forced her to 
 listen with all the strength of his will. 
 
 Miss Langham dropped among the soft cush 
 ions of the launch with a sense of having been 
 rescued from herself and of delight in finding 
 refuge again in her own environment. The sight 
 of King standing in the bow beside Hope with 
 his cigarette hanging from his lips, and peering 
 with half-closed eyes into the fading light, gave 
 her a sense of restfulness and content. She did 
 not know what she wished from that other strange 
 young man. He was so bold, so handsome, and 
 he looked at life and spoke of it in such a fresh, 
 unhackneyed spirit. He might make himself any 
 thing he pleased. But here was a man who already 
 had everything, or who could get it as easily as he 
 could increase the speed of the launch, by pulling 
 some wire with his finger. 
 
 She recalled one day when they were all on 
 board of this same launch, and the machinery had 
 broken down, and MacWilliams had gone forward 
 to look at it. He had called Clay to help him, 
 and she remembered how they had both gone 
 down on their knees and asked the engineer and 
 fireman to pass them wrenches and oil-cans, while 
 King protested mildly, and the rest sat helplessly
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 In the hot glare of the sea, as the boat rose and 
 fell on the waves. She resented Clay s interest 
 in the accident, and his pleasure when he had 
 made the machinery right once more, and his ap 
 pearance as he came back to them with oily hands 
 and with his face glowing from the heat of the 
 furnace, wiping his grimy fingers on a piece of 
 packing. She had resented the equality with which 
 he treated the engineer in asking his advice, and 
 it rather surprised her that the crew saluted 
 him when he stepped into the launch again that 
 night as though he were the owner. She had ex 
 pected that they would patronize him, and she 
 imagined after this incident that she detected a 
 shade of difference in the manner of the sailors 
 toward Clay, as though he had cheapened him 
 self to them as he had to her.
 
 VII 
 
 AT ten o clock that same evening Clay began 
 to prepare himself for the ball at the Gov 
 ernment palace, and MacWilliams, who was not 
 invited, watched him dress with critical approval 
 that showed no sign of envy. 
 
 The better to do honor to the President, Clay 
 had brought out several foreign orders, and Mac- 
 Williams helped him to tie around his neck the 
 collar of the Red Eagle which the German Em 
 peror had given him, and to fasten the ribbon and 
 cross of the Star of Olancho across his breast, and 
 a Spanish Order and the Legion of Honor to the 
 lapel of his coat. MacWilliams surveyed the ef 
 fect of the tiny enamelled crosses with his head 
 on one side, and with the same air of affectionate 
 pride and concern that a mother shows over her 
 daughter s first ball-dress. 
 
 "Got any more?" he asked, anxiously. 
 
 "I have some war medals," Clay answered, 
 smiling doubtfully. "But I m not in uniform." 
 
 "Oh, that s all right," declared MacWilliams. 
 "Put em on, put em all on. Give the girls a 
 
 152
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 treat. Everybody will think they were given for 
 feats of swimming, anyway; but they will show 
 up well from the front. Now, then, you look like 
 a drum-major or a conjuring chap." 
 
 "I do not," said Clay. "I look like a French 
 Ambassador, and I hardly understand how you 
 find courage to speak to me at all." 
 
 He went up the hill in high spirits, and found 
 the carriage at the door and King, Mr. Langham, 
 and Miss Langham sitting waiting for him. They 
 were ready to depart, and Miss Langham had but 
 just seated herself in the carriage when they heard 
 hurrying across the tiled floor a quick, light step 
 and the rustle of silk, and turning they saw Hope 
 standing in the doorway, radiant and smiling. 
 She wore a white frock that reached to the ground, 
 and that left her arms and shoulders bare. Her 
 hair was dressed high upon her head, and she was 
 pulling vigorously at a pair of long, tan-colored 
 gloves. The transformation was so complete, and 
 the girl looked so much older and so stately and 
 beautiful, that the two young men stared at her 
 in silent admiration and astonishment. 
 
 "Why, Hope !" exclaimed her sister. "What 
 does this mean?" 
 
 Hope stopped in some alarm, and clasped her 
 hair with both hands. "What is it?" she asked; 
 "is anything wrong?" 
 
 153
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "Why, my dear child," said her sister, "you re 
 not thinking of going with us, are you?" 
 
 "Not going?" echoed the younger sister, in dis 
 may. "Why, Alice, why not? I was asked." 
 
 "But, Hope Father," said the elder sister, 
 stepping out of the carriage and turning to Mr. 
 Langham, "you didn t intend that Hope should 
 go, did you? She s not out yet." 
 
 "Oh, nonsense," said Hope, defiantly. But she 
 drew in her breath quickly and blushed, as she 
 saw the two young men moving away out of hear 
 ing of this family crisis. She felt that she was 
 being made to look like a spoiled child. "It 
 doesn t count down here," she said, "and I want 
 to go. I thought you knew I was going all the 
 time. Marie made this frock for me on pur 
 pose." 
 
 "I don t think Hope is old enough," the elder 
 sister said, addressing her father, "and if she goes 
 to dances here, there s no reason why she should 
 not go to those at home." 
 
 "But I don t want to go to dances at home," 
 interrupted Hope. 
 
 Mr. Langham looked exceedingly uncomfort 
 able, and turned apppealingly to his elder daugh 
 ter. "What do you think, Alice?" he said, doubt 
 fully. 
 
 "I m sorry," Miss Langham replied, "but I 
 154
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 know it would not be at all proper. I hate to 
 seem horrid about it, Hope, but indeed you are 
 too young, and the men here are not the men a 
 young girl ought to meet." 
 
 "You meet them, Alice," said Hope, but pull 
 ing off her gloves in token of defeat. 
 
 "But, my dear child, I m fifty years older than 
 you are." 
 
 "Perhaps Alice knows best, Hope," Mr. Lang- 
 ham said. "I m sorry if you are disappointed." 
 
 Hope held her head a little higher, and turned 
 toward the door. 
 
 "I don t mind if you don t wish it, father," she 
 said. "Good-night." She moved away, but ap 
 parently thought better of it, and came back and 
 stood smiling and nodding to them as they seated 
 themselves in the carriage. Mr. Langham leaned 
 forward and said, in a troubled voice, "We will 
 tell you all about it in the morning. I m very 
 sorry. You won t be lonely, will you? I ll stay 
 with you if you wish." 
 
 "Nonsense!" laughed Hope. "Why, it s given 
 to you, father; don t bother about me. I ll read 
 something or other and go to bed." 
 
 "Good-night, Cinderella," King called out to 
 her. 
 
 "Good-night, Prince Charming," Hope an 
 swered. 
 
 155
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 Both Clay and King felt that the girl would 
 not mind missing the ball so much as she would 
 the fact of having been treated like a child in their 
 presence, so they refrained from any expression 
 of sympathy or regret, but raised their hats and 
 bowed a little more impressively than usual as 
 the carriage drove away. 
 
 The picture Hope made, as she stood deserted 
 and forlorn on the steps of the empty house in her 
 new finery, struck Clay as unnecessarily pathetic. 
 He felt a strong sense of resentment against her 
 sister and her father, and thanked heaven devout 
 ly that he was out of their class, and when Miss 
 Langham continued to express her sorrow that 
 she had been forced to act as she had done, he 
 remained silent. It seemed to Clay such a simple 
 thing to give children pleasure, and to remember 
 that their woes were always out of all proportion 
 to the cause. Children, dumb animals, and blind 
 people were always grouped together in his mind 
 as objects demanding the most tender and constant 
 consideration. So the pleasure of the evening was 
 spoiled for him while he remembered the hurt and 
 disappointed look in Hope s face, and when Miss 
 Langham asked him why he was so preoccupied, 
 he told her bluntly that he thought she had been 
 very unkind to Hope, and that her objections were 
 absurd. 
 
 156
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 Miss Langham held herself a little more stiffly. 
 "Perhaps you do not quite understand, Mr. Clay," 
 she said. "Some of us have to conform to certain 
 rules that the people with whom we best like to 
 associate have laid down for themselves. If we 
 choose to be conventional, it is probably because 
 we find it makes life easier for the greater number. 
 You cannot think it was a pleasant task for me. 
 But I have given up things of much more im 
 portance than a dance for the sake of appear 
 ances, and Hope herself will see to-morrow that 
 I acted for the best." 
 
 Clay said he trusted so, but doubted it, and by 
 way of re-establishing himself in Miss Langham s 
 good favor, asked her if she could give him the 
 next dance. But Miss Langham was not to be 
 propitiated. 
 
 "I m sorry," she said, "but I believe I am en 
 gaged until supper-time. Come and ask me then, 
 and I ll have one saved for you. But there is 
 something you can do," she added. "I left 
 my fan in the carriage do you think you could 
 manage to get it for me without much trou 
 ble?" 
 
 "The carriage did not wait. I believe it was 
 sent back," said Clay, "but I can borrow a horse 
 from one of Stuart s men, and ride back and get 
 it for you, if you like." 
 
 157
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "How absurd!" laughed Miss Langham, but 
 she looked pleased, notwithstanding. 
 
 "Oh, not at all," Clay answered. He was 
 smiling down at her in some amusement, and was 
 apparently much entertained at his idea. "Will 
 you consider it an act of devotion?" he asked. 
 
 There was so little of devotion, and so much 
 more of mischief in his eyes, that Miss Langham 
 guessed he was only laughing at her, and shook 
 her head. 
 
 "You won t go," she said, turning away. She 
 followed him with her eyes, however, as he crossed 
 the room, his head and shoulders towering above 
 the native men and women. She had never seen 
 him so resplendent, and she noted, with an eye 
 that considered trifles, the orders, and his well-fit 
 ting white gloves, and his manner of bowing in 
 the Continental fashion, holding his opera-hat on 
 his thigh, as though his hand rested on a sword. 
 She noticed that the little Olanchoans stopped and 
 looked after him, as he pushed his way among 
 them, and she could see that the men were telling 
 the women who he was. Sir Julian Pindar, the old 
 British Minister, stopped him, and she watched 
 them as they laughed together over the English 
 war medals on the American s breast, which Sir 
 Julian touched with his finger. He called the 
 French Minister and his pretty wife to look, too, 
 
 158
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 and they all laughed and talked together in great 
 spirits, and Miss Langham wondered if Clay was 
 speaking in French to them. 
 
 Miss Langham did not enjoy the ball; she felt 
 injured and aggrieved, and she assured herself 
 that she had been hardly used. She had only 
 done her duty, and yet all the sympathy had gone 
 to her sister, who had placed her in a trying posi 
 tion. She thought it was most inconsiderate. 
 
 Hope walked slowly across the veranda when 
 the others had gone, and watched the carriage as 
 long as it remained in sight. Then she threw 
 herself into a big arm-chair, and looked down 
 upon her pretty frock and her new dancing-slip 
 pers. She, too, felt badly used. 
 
 The moonlight fell all about her, as it had on 
 the first night of their arrival, a month before, 
 but now it seemed cold and cheerless, and gave 
 an added sense of loneliness to the silent house. 
 She did not go inside to read, as she had prom 
 ised to do, but sat for the next hour looking out 
 across the harbor. She could not blame Alice. 
 She considered that Alice always moved by rules 
 and precedents, like a queen in a game of chess, 
 and she wondered why. It made life so tame and 
 uninteresting, and yet people invariably admired 
 Alice, and some one had spoken of her as the 
 noblest example of the modern gentlewoman. 
 
 159
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 She was sure she could not grow up to be any 
 thing like that. She was quite confident that she 
 was going to disappoint her family. She won 
 dered if people would like her better if she were 
 discreet like Alice, and less like her brother Ted. 
 If Mr. Clay, for instance, would like her better? 
 She wondered if he disapproved of her riding on 
 the engine with MacWilliams, and of her tearing 
 through the mines on her pony, and spearing with 
 a lance of sugar-cane at the mongrel curs that ran 
 to snap at his flanks. She remembered his look 
 of astonished amusement the day he had caught 
 her in this impromptu pig-sticking, and she felt her 
 self growing red at the recollection. She was sure 
 he thought her a tomboy. Probably he never 
 thought of her at all. 
 
 Hope leaned back in the chair and looked up 
 at the stars above the mountains and tried to think 
 of any of her heroes and princes in fiction who 
 had gone through such interesting experiences as 
 had Mr. Clay. Some of them had done so, but 
 they were creatures in a book and this hero was 
 alive, and she knew him, and had probably made 
 him despise her as a silly little girl who was 
 scolded and sent off to bed like a disobedient 
 child. Hope felt a choking in her throat and 
 something like a tear creep to her eyes: but she 
 was surprised to find that the fact did not make 
 
 1 60
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 her ashamed of herself. She owned that she was 
 wounded and disappointed, and to make it harder 
 she could not help picturing Alice and Clay laugh 
 ing and talking together in some corner away from 
 the ball-room, while she, who understood him so 
 well, and who could not find the words to tell him 
 how much she valued what he was and what he 
 had done, was forgotten and sitting here alone, 
 like Cinderella, by the empty fireplace. 
 
 The picture was so pathetic as Hope drew it, 
 that for a moment she felt almost a touch of self- 
 pity, but the next she laughed scornfully at her 
 own foolishness, and rising with an impatient 
 shrug, walked away in the direction of her room. 
 
 But before she had crossed the veranda she was 
 stopped by the sound of a horse s hoofs galloping 
 over the hard sun-baked road that led from the 
 city, and before she had stepped forward out of 
 the shadow in which she stood the horse had 
 reached the steps and his rider had pulled him 
 back on his haunches and swung himself off be 
 fore the forefeet had touched the ground. 
 
 Hope had guessed that it was Clay by his rid 
 ing, and she feared from his haste that some one 
 of her people were ill. So she ran anxiously for 
 ward and asked if anything were wrong. 
 
 Clay started at her sudden appearance, and gave 
 a short boyish laugh of pleasure. 
 
 161
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "I m so glad you re still up," he said. "No, 
 nothing is wrong." He stopped in some embar 
 rassment. He had been moved to return by the 
 fact that the little girl he knew was in trouble, 
 and now that he was suddenly confronted by this 
 older and statelier young person, his action seemed 
 particularly silly, and he was at a loss to explain 
 it in any way that would not give offence. 
 
 "No, nothing is wrong," he repeated. "I came 
 after something." 
 
 Clay had borrowed one of the cloaks the troop 
 ers wore at night from the same man who had 
 lent him the horse, and as he stood bareheaded 
 before her, with the cloak hanging from his shoul 
 ders to the floor and the star and ribbon across 
 his breast, Hope felt very grateful to him for 
 being able to look like a Prince or a hero in a 
 book, and to yet remain her Mr. Clay at the same 
 time. 
 
 "I came to get your sister s fan," Clay ex 
 plained. "She forgot it." 
 
 The young girl looked at him for a moment in 
 surprise and then straightened herself slightly. 
 She did not know whether she was the more in 
 dignant with Alice for sending such a man on so 
 foolish an errand, or with Clay for submitting 
 to such a service. 
 
 "Oh, is that it?" she said at last. "I will go 
 16?
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 and find you one." She gave him a dignified little 
 bow and moved away toward the door, with every 
 appearance of disapproval. 
 
 "Oh, I don t know," she heard Clay say, doubt 
 fully; "I don t have to go just yet, do I? May 
 I not stay here a little while?" 
 
 Hope stood and looked at him in some per 
 plexity. 
 
 "Why, yes," she answered, wonderingly. "But 
 don t you want to go back? You came in a great 
 hurry. And won t Alice want her fan?" 
 
 "Oh, she has it by this time. I told Stuart 
 to find it. She left it in the carriage, and the 
 carriage is waiting at the end of the plaza." 
 
 "Then why did you come?" asked Hope, with 
 rising suspicion. 
 
 "Oh, I don t know," said Clay, helplessly. "I 
 thought I d just like a ride in the moonlight. I 
 hate balls and dances anyway, don t you ? I think 
 you were very wise not to go." 
 
 Hope placed her hands on the back of the big 
 arm-chair and looked steadily at him as he stood 
 where she could see his face in the moonlight. 
 "You came back," she said, "because they thought 
 I was crying, and they sent you to see. Is that 
 it? Did Alice send you?" she demanded. 
 
 Clay gave a gasp of consternation. 
 
 "You know that no one sent me," he said. "I 
 163
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 thought they treated you abominably, and I want 
 ed to come and say so. That s all. And I wanted 
 to tell you that I missed you very much, and that 
 your not coming had spoiled the evening for me, 
 and I came also because I preferred to talk to you 
 than to stay where I was. No one knows that I 
 came to see you. I said I was going to get the 
 fan, and I told Stuart to find it after I d left. I 
 just wanted to see you, that s all. But I will go 
 back again at once." 
 
 While he had been speaking Hope had low 
 ered her eyes from his face and had turned and 
 looked out across the harbor. There was a 
 strange, happy tumult in her breast, and she was 
 breathing so rapidly that she was afraid he would 
 notice it. She also felt an absurd inclination to 
 cry, and that frightened her. So she laughed and 
 turned and looked up into his face again. Clay 
 saw the same look in her eyes that he had seen 
 there the day when she had congratulated him on 
 his work at the mines. He had seen it before in 
 the eyes of other women and it troubled him. 
 Hope seated herself in the big chair, and Clay 
 tossed his cloak on the floor at her feet and sat 
 down with his shoulders against one of the pillars. 
 He glanced up at her and found that the look that 
 had troubled him was gone, and that her eyes were 
 now smiling with excitement and pleasure. 
 
 164
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "And did you bring me something from the 
 ball in your pocket to comfort me," she asked, 
 mockingly. 
 
 "Yes, I did," Clay answered, unabashed. "I 
 brought you some bonbons." 
 
 "You didn t, really!" Hope cried, with a shriek 
 of delight. "How absurd of you ! The sort you 
 pull?" 
 
 "The sort you pull," Clay repeated, gravely. 
 "And also a dance-card, which is a relic of bar 
 barism still existing in this Southern capital. It 
 has the arms of Olancho on it in gold, and I 
 thought you might like to keep it as a souvenir." 
 He pulled the card from his coat-pocket and said, 
 "May I have this dance?" 
 
 "You may," Hope answered. "But you 
 wouldn t mind if we sat it out, would you?" 
 
 "I should prefer it," Clay said, as he scrawled 
 his name across the card. "It is so crowded in 
 side, and the company is rather mixed." They 
 both laughed lightly at their own foolishness, and 
 Hope smiled down upon him affectionately and 
 proudly. "You may smoke, if you choose; and 
 would you like something cool to drink?" she 
 asked, anxiously. "After your ride, you know," 
 she suggested, with hospitable intent. Clay said 
 that he was very comfortable without a drink, but 
 lighted a cigar and watched her covertly through 
 
 165
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 the smoke, as she sat smiling happily and quite 
 unconsciously upon the moonlit world around 
 them. She caught Clay s eye fixed on her, and 
 laughed lightly. 
 
 "What is it?" he said. 
 
 "Oh, I was just thinking," Hope replied, "that 
 it was much better to have a dance come to you, 
 than to go to the dance." 
 
 "Does one man and a dance-card and three bon 
 bons constitute your idea of a ball?" 
 
 "Doesn t it? You see, I am not out yet, I don t 
 know." 
 
 "I should think it might depend a good deal 
 upon the man," Clay suggested, 
 
 "That sounds as though you were hinting, said 
 Hope, doubtfully. "Now what would I say to 
 that if I were out?" 
 
 "I don t know, but don t say it," Clay answered. 
 "It would probably be something very unflatter 
 ing or very forward, and in either case I should 
 take you back to your chaperon and leave you 
 there." 
 
 Hope had not been listening. Her eyes were 
 fixed on a level with his tie, and Clay raised his 
 hand to it in some trepidation. "Mr. Clay," she 
 began abruptly and leaning eagerly forward, 
 "would you think me very rude if I asked you 
 what you did to get all those crosses? I know 
 
 166
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 they mean something, and I do so want to know 
 what. Please tell me." 
 
 "Oh, those! 1 said Clay. "The reason I put 
 them on to-night is because wearing them is sup 
 posed to be a sort of compliment to your host. I 
 got in the habit abroad " 
 
 "I didn t ask you that," said Hope, severely. 
 "I asked you what you did to get them. Now 
 begin with the Legion of Honor on the left, and 
 go right on until you come to the end, and please 
 don t skip anything. Leave in all the bloodthirsty 
 parts, and please don t be modest." 
 
 "Like Othello," suggested Clay. 
 
 "Yes," said Hope; "I will be Desdemona." 
 
 "Well, Desdemona, it was like this," said Clay, 
 laughing. "I got that medal and that star for 
 serving in the Nile campaign, under Wolseley. 
 After I left Egypt, I went up the coast to Algiers, 
 where I took service under the French in a most 
 disreputable organization known as the Foreign 
 Legion " 
 
 "Don t tell me," exclaimed Hope, in delight, 
 "that you have been a Chasseur d Afrique ! Not 
 like the man in Under Two Flags ?" 
 
 "No, not at all like that man," said Clay, em 
 phatically. "I was just a plain, common, or gar 
 den, sappeur, and I showed the other good-for- 
 nothings how to dig trenches. Well, I contam- 
 
 167
 
 Soldiers or Fortune 
 
 inated the Foreign Legion for eight months, and 
 then I went to Peru, where I 
 
 "You re skipping," said Hope. "How did you 
 get the Legion of Honor?" 
 
 "Oh, that?" said Clay. "That was a gallery 
 play I made once when we were chasing some 
 Arabs. They took the French flag away from 
 our color-bearer, and I got it back again and waved 
 it frantically around my head until I was quite 
 certain the Colonel had seen me doing it, and then 
 I stopped as soon as I knew that I was sure of 
 promotion." 
 
 "Oh, how can you?" cried Hope. "You didn t 
 do anything of the sort. You probably saved the 
 entire regiment." 
 
 "Well, perhaps I did," Clay returned. "Though 
 I don t remember it, and nobody mentioned it at 
 the time." 
 
 "Go on about the others," said Hope. "And 
 do try to be truthful." 
 
 "Well, I got this one from Spain, because I 
 was President of an International Congress of 
 Engineers at Madrid. That was the ostensible 
 reason, but the real reason was because I taught 
 the Spanish Commissioners to play poker instead 
 of baccarat. The German Emperor gave me this 
 for designing a fort, and the Sultan of Zanzibar 
 gave me this, and no one but the Sultan knows 
 
 168
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 why, and he won t tell. I suppose he s ashamed. 
 He gives them away instead of cigars. He was 
 out of cigars the day I called." 
 
 "What a lot of places you have seen," sighed 
 Hope. "I have been in Cairo and Algiers, too, 
 but I always had to walk about with a governess, 
 and she wouldn t go to the mosques because she 
 said they were full of fleas. We always go to 
 Homburg and Paris in the summer, and to big 
 hotels in London. I love to travel, but T don t 
 love to travel that way, would you?" 
 
 "I travel because I have no home," said Clay. 
 "I m different from the chap that came home be 
 cause all the other places were shut. I go to other 
 places because there is no home open." 
 
 "What do you mean?" said Hope, shaking her 
 head. "Why have you no home?" 
 
 "There was a ranch in Colorado that I used 
 to call home," said Clay, "but they ve cut it up 
 into town lots. I own a plot in the cemetery out 
 side of the town, where my mother is buried, and 
 I visit that whenever I am in the States, and that 
 is the only piece of earth anywhere in the world 
 that I have to go back to." 
 
 Hope leaned forward with her hands clasped 
 in front of her and her eyes wide open. 
 
 "And your father?" she said, softly; "is he 
 is he there, too 
 
 169
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 Clay looked at the lighted end of his cigar as 
 he turned it between his fingers. 
 
 "My father, Miss Hope," he said, "was a fili 
 buster, and went out on the Virginius to help 
 free Cuba, and was shot, against a stone wall. 
 We never knew where he was buried." 
 
 "Oh, forgive me; I beg your pardon," said 
 Hope. There was such distress in her voice that 
 Clay looked at her quickly and saw the tears in 
 her eyes. She reached out her hand timidly, and 
 touched for an instant his own rough, sunburned 
 fist, as it lay clenched on his knee. "I am so 
 sorry," she said, "so sorry." For the first time 
 in many years the tears came to Clay s eyes and 
 blurred the moonlight and the scene before him, 
 and he sat unmanned and silent before the simple 
 touch of a young girl s sympathy. 
 
 An hour later, \vhen his pony struck the gravel 
 from beneath his hoofs on the race back to the 
 city, and Clay turned to wave his hand to Hope 
 in the doorway, she seemed, as she stood with the 
 moonlight falling about her white figure, like a 
 spirit beckoning the way to a new paradise. 
 
 170
 
 VIII 
 
 CLAY reached the President s Palace during 
 the supper-hour, and found Mr. Langham 
 and his daughter at the President s table. Ma 
 dame Alvarez pointed to a place for him beside 
 Alice Langham, who held up her hand in wel 
 come. "You were very foolish to rush off like 
 that," she said. 
 
 "It wasn t there," said Clay, crowding into the 
 place beside her. 
 
 "No, it was here in the carriage all the time. 
 Captain Stuart found it for me." 
 
 "Oh, he did, did he?" said Clay; "that s why 
 I couldn t find it. I am hungry," he laughed, "my 
 ride gave me an appetite." He looked over and 
 grinned at Stuart, but that gentleman was staring 
 fixedly at the candles on the table before him, his 
 eyes filled with concern. Clay observed that Ma 
 dame Alvarez was covertly watching the young 
 officer, and frowning her disapproval at his preoc 
 cupation. So he stretched his leg under the table 
 and kicked viciously at Stuart s boots. Old Gen 
 eral Rojas, the Vice-President, who sat next to 
 Stuart, moved suddenly and then blinked violently 
 
 171
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 at the ceiling with an expression of patient suffer 
 ing, but the exclamation which had escaped him 
 brought Stuart back to the present, and he talked 
 with the woman next him in a perfunctory manner. 
 
 Miss Langham and her father were waiting for 
 their carriage in the great hall of the Palace as 
 Stuart came up to Clay, and putting his hand af 
 fectionately on his shoulder, began pointing to 
 something farther back in the hall. To the night- 
 birds of the streets and the noisy fiacre drivers 
 outside, and to the crowd of guests who stood 
 on the high marble steps waiting for their turn 
 to depart, he might have been relating an amusing 
 anecdote of the ball just over. 
 
 "I m in great trouble, old man," was what he 
 said. "I must see you alone to-night. I d ask 
 you to my rooms, but they watch me all the time, 
 and I don t want them to suspect you are in this 
 until they must. Go on in the carriage, but get 
 out as you pass the Plaza Bolivar, and wait for 
 me by the statue there." 
 
 Clay smiled, apparently in great amusement. 
 "That s very good," he said. 
 
 He crossed over to where King stood surveying 
 the powdered beauties of Olancho and their gowns 
 of a past fashion, with an intensity of admiration 
 which would have been suspicious to those who 
 knew his tastes. "When we get into the carriage," 
 
 172
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 said Clay, in a low voice, "we will both call to 
 Stuart that we will see him to-morrow morning 
 at breakfast." 
 
 "All right," assented King. "What s up?" 
 
 Stuart helped Miss Langham into her carriage, 
 and as it moved away King shouted to him in 
 English to remember that he was breakfasting 
 with him on the morrow, and Clay called out in 
 Spanish, "Until to-morrow at breakfast, don t for 
 get." And Stuart answered, steadily, "Good 
 night until to-morrow at one." 
 
 As their carriage jolted through the dark and 
 narrow street, empty now of all noise or move 
 ment, one of Stuart s troopers dashed by it at a 
 gallop, with a lighted lantern swinging at his side. 
 He raised it as he passed each street crossing, and 
 held it high above his head so that its light fell 
 upon the walls of the houses at the four corners. 
 The clatter of his horse s hoofs had not ceased 
 before another trooper galloped toward them rid 
 ing more slowly, and throwing the light of his 
 lantern over the trunks of the trees that lined the 
 pavements. As the carriage passed him, he 
 brought his horse to its side with a jerk of the 
 bridle, and swung his lantern in the faces of its 
 occupants. 
 
 "Who lives?" he challenged. 
 
 "Olancho," Clay replied. 
 173
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "Who answers?" 
 
 "Free men," Clay answered again, and pointed 
 at the star on his coat. 
 
 The soldier muttered an apology, and striking 
 his heels into his horse s side, dashed noisily away, 
 his lantern tossing from side to side, high in the 
 air, as he drew rein to scan each tree and passed 
 from one lamp-post to the next. 
 
 "What does that mean?" said Mr. Langham; 
 "did he take us for highwaymen?" 
 
 "It is the custom," said Clay. "We are out 
 rather late, you see." 
 
 "If I remember rightly, Clay," said King, "they 
 gave a ball at Brussels on the eve of Waterloo." 
 
 "I believe they did," said Clay, smiling. He 
 spoke to the driver to stop the carriage, and 
 stepped dow r n into the street. 
 
 "I have to leave you here," he said; "drive on 
 quickly, please; I can explain better in the morn- 
 ing." 
 
 The Plaza Bolivar stood in what had once been 
 the centre of the fashionable life of Olancho, but 
 the town had moved farther up the hill, and it 
 was now far in the suburbs, its walks neglected 
 and its turf overrun with weeds. The houses 
 about it had fallen into disuse, and the few that 
 were still occupied at the time Clay entered it 
 showed no sign of life. Clay picked his way over 
 
 174
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 the grass-grown paths to the statue of Bolivar, 
 the hero of the sister republic of Venezuela, which 
 still stood on its pedestal in a tangle of underbrush 
 and hanging vines. The iron railing that had once 
 surrounded it was broken down, and the branches 
 of the trees near were black with sleeping buz 
 zards. Two great palms reared themselves in the 
 moonlight at either side, and beat their leaves to 
 gether in the night wind, whispering and murmur 
 ing together like two living conspirators. 
 
 "This ought to be safe enough," Clay mur 
 mured to himself. "It s just the place for plot 
 ting. I hope there are no snakes." He seated 
 himself on the steps of the pedestal, and lighting 
 a cigar, remained smoking and peering into the 
 shadows about him, until a shadow blacker than 
 the darkness rose at his feet, and a voice saicl, 
 sternly, "Put out that light. I saw it half a mile 
 away." 
 
 Clay rose and crushed his cigar under his foot. 
 "Now then, old man," he demanded briskly, 
 "what s up? It s nearly daylight and we must 
 hurry." 
 
 Stuart seated himself heavily on the stone steps, 
 like a man tired in mind and body, and unfolded 
 a printed piece of paper. Its blank side was damp 
 and sticky with paste. 
 
 "It is too dark for you to see this," he began,
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 In a strained voice, "so I will translate it to you. 
 It is an attack on Madame Alvarez and myself. 
 They put them up during the ball, when they knew 
 my men would be at the Palace. I have had them 
 scouring the streets for the last two hours tearing 
 them down, but they are all over the place, in the 
 cafes and clubso They have done what they were 
 meant to do." 
 
 Clay took another cigar from his pocket and 
 rolled it between his lips. "What does it say?" 
 he asked. 
 
 "It goes over the old ground first. It says Al 
 varez has given the richest birthright of his coun 
 try to aliens that means the mines and Langham 
 and has put an alien in command of the army 
 that is meant for me. I ve no more to do with 
 the army than you have I only wish I had ! And 
 then it says that the boundary aggressions of Ecua 
 dor and Venezuela have not been resented in con 
 sequence. It asks what can be expected of a Pres 
 ident who is as blind to the dishonor of his 
 country as he is to the dishonor of his own 
 home?" 
 
 Clay muttered under his breath, "Well, go on. 
 Is it explicit? More explicit than that?" 
 
 "Yes," said Stuart, grimly. "I can t repeat it. 
 It is quite clear what they mean." 
 
 "Have you got any of them?" Clay asked. 
 176
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 Can you fix it on some one that you can 
 fight?" 
 
 "Mendoza did it, of course," Stuart answered, 
 "but we cannot prove it. And if we could, we 
 are not strong enough to take him. He has the 
 city full of his men now, and the troops are pour 
 ing in every hour." 
 
 "Well, Alvarez can stop that, can t he?" 
 
 "They are coming in for the annual review. 
 He can t show the people that he is afraid of his 
 own army." 
 
 "What are you going to do?" 
 
 "What am I going to do?" Stuart repeated, 
 dully. "That is what I want you to tell me. There 
 is nothing I can do now. I ve brought trouble 
 and insult on people who have been kinder to me 
 than my own blood have been. Who took me in 
 when I was naked and clothed me, when I hadn t 
 a friend or a sixpence to my name. You remem 
 ber I came here from that row in Colombia with 
 my wound, and I was down with the fever when 
 they found me, and Alvarez gave me the ap 
 pointment. And this is how I reward them. If 
 I stay I do more harm. If I go away I leave them 
 surrounded by enemies, and not enemies who fight 
 fair, but damned thieves and scoundrels, who stab 
 at women and who fight in the dark. I wouldn t 
 have had it happen, old man, for my right arm! 
 
 177
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 They they have been so kind to me, and I have 
 been so happy here and now!" The boy bowed 
 his face in his hands and sat breathing brokenly 
 while Clay turned his unlit cigar between his teeth 
 and peered at him curiously through the darkness. 
 "Now I have made them both unhappy, and they 
 hate me, and I hate myself, and I have brought 
 nothing but trouble to every one. First I made 
 my own people miserable, and now I make my best 
 friends miserable, and I had better be dead. I 
 wish I were dead. I wish I had never been born/ 
 
 Clay laid his hand on the other s bowed shoul 
 der and shook him gently. "Don t talk like that," 
 he said; "it does no good. Why do you hate 
 yourself?" 
 
 "What?" asked Stuart, wearily, without look 
 ing up. "What did you say?" 
 
 "You said you had made them hate you, and 
 you added that you hated yourself. Well, I can 
 see why they naturally would be angry for the 
 time, at least. But why do you hate yourself? 
 Have you reason to?" 
 
 "I don t understand," said Stuart. 
 
 "Well, I can t make it any plainer," Clay re 
 plied. "It isn t a question I will ask. But you 
 say you want my advice. Well, my advice to my. 
 friend and to a man who is not my friend, differ. 
 And In this case it depends on whether what that
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 thing Clay kicked the paper which had fallen 
 on the ground "what that thing says is true." 
 
 The younger man looked at the paper below 
 him and then back at Clay, and sprang to his feet. 
 
 "Why, damn you," he cried, "what do you 
 mean?" 
 
 He stood above Clay with both arms rigid at 
 J**s side and his head bent forward. The dawn 
 had just broken, and the two men saw each other 
 in the ghastly gray light of the morning. "If 
 any man," cried Stuart thickly, "dares to say that 
 that blackguardly lie is true I ll kill him. You 
 or any one else. Is that what you mean, damn 
 you? If it is, say so, and I ll break every bone 
 of your body." 
 
 "Well, that s much better," growled Clay, sul 
 lenly. "The way you went on wishing you were 
 dead and hating yourself made me almost lose 
 faith in mankind. Now you go make that speech 
 to the President, and then find the man who put 
 up those placards, and if you can t find the right 
 man, take any man you meet and make him eat it, 
 paste and all, and beat him to death if he doesn t. 
 Why, this is no time to whimper because the 
 world is full of liars. Go out and fight them and 
 show them you are not afraid. Confound you, 
 you had me so scared there that I almost thrashed 
 you myself. Forgive me, won t you?" he begged 
 
 179
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 earnestly. He rose and held out his hand and the 
 other took it, doubtfully. "It was your own fault, 
 you young idiot," protested Clay. "You told your 
 story the wrong way. Now go home and get 
 some sleep and I ll be back in a few hours to 
 help you. Look!" he said. He pointed through 
 the trees to the sun that shot up like a red hot 
 disk of heat above the cool green of the moun 
 tains. "See," said Clay, "God has given us an 
 other day. Seven battles were fought in seven 
 days once in my country. Let s be thankful, old 
 man, that we re not dead, but alive to fight our 
 own and other people s battles." 
 
 The younger man sighed and pressed Clay s 
 hand again before he dropped it. 
 
 "You are very good to me," he said. "I m 
 not just quite myself this morning. I m a bit 
 nervous, I think. You ll surely come, won t you?" 
 
 "By noon," Clay promised. "And if it does 
 come," he added, "don t forget my fifteen hun 
 dred men at the mines." 
 
 "Good! I won t," Stuart replied. "I ll call 
 on you if I need them." He raised his fingers 
 mechanically to his helmet in salute, and catching 
 up his sword turned and strode away erect and 
 soldierly through the debris and weeds of the de 
 serted plaza. 
 
 Clay remained motionless on the steps of the 
 1 80
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 pedestal and followed the younger man with his 
 eyes. He drew a long breath and began a lei 
 surely search through his pockets for his match 
 box, gazing about him as he did so, as though 
 looking for some one to whom he could speak his 
 feelings. He lifted his eyes to the stern, smooth- 
 shaven face of the bronze statue above him that 
 seemed to be watching Stuart s departing figure. 
 
 "General Bolivar," Clay said, as he lit his cigar, 
 "observe that young man. He is a soldier and a 
 gallant gentleman. You, sir, were a great soldier 
 the greatest this God-forsaken country will ever 
 know and you were, sir, an ardent lover. I ask 
 you to salute that young man as I do, and to wish 
 him well." Clay lifted his high hat to the back 
 of the young officer as it was hidden in the hang 
 ing vines, and once again, with grave respect to 
 the grim features of the great general above him, 
 and then smiling at his own conceit, he ran lightly 
 down the steps and disappeared among the trees 
 of the plaza. 
 
 181
 
 IX 
 
 CLAY slept for three hours. He had left a 
 note on the floor instructing MacWilliams 
 and young Langham not to go to the mines, but 
 to waken him at ten o clock, and by eleven the 
 three men were galloping off to the city. As they 
 left the Palms they met Hope returning from a 
 morning ride on the Alameda, and Clay begged 
 her, with much concern, not to ride abroad again. 
 There was a difference in his tone toward her. 
 There was more anxiety in it than the occasion 
 seemed to justify, and he put his request in the 
 form of a favor to himself, while the day previous 
 he would simply have told her that she must not 
 go riding alone. 
 
 "Why?" asked Hope, eagerly. "Is there going 
 to be trouble?" 
 
 "I hope not," Clay said, "but the soldiers are 
 coming in from the provinces for the review, and 
 the roads are not safe." 
 
 "I d be safe with you, though," said Hope, 
 smiling persuasively upon the three men. "Won t 
 you take me with you, please?" 
 
 "Hope," said young Langham in the tone of 
 182
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 the elder brother s brief authority, "you must go 
 home at once." 
 
 Hope smiled wickedly. "I don t want to," she 
 said. 
 
 "I ll bet you a box of cigars I can beat you to 
 the veranda by fifty yards," said MacWilliams, 
 turning his horse s head. 
 
 Hope clasped her sailor hat in one hand and 
 swung her whip with the other. "I think not," 
 she cried, and disappeared with a flutter of skirts 
 and a scurry of flying pebbles. 
 
 "At times," said Clay, "MacWilliams shows 
 an unexpected knowledge of human nature." 
 
 "Yes, he did quite right," assented Langham, 
 nodding his head mysteriously. "We ve no time 
 for girls at present, have we?" 
 
 "No, indeed," said Clay, hiding any sign of a 
 smile. 
 
 Langham breathed deeply at the thought of the 
 part he was to play in this coming struggle, and 
 remained respectfully silent as they trotted toward 
 the city. He did not wish to disturb the plots 
 and counterplots that he was confident were form 
 ing in Clay s brain, and his devotion would have 
 been severely tried had he known that his hero s 
 mind was filled with a picture of a young girl in a 
 blue shirt-waist and a whipcord riding-skirt. 
 
 Clay sent for Stuart to join them at the res- 
 183
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 taurant, and MacWilliams arriving at the same 
 time, the four men seated themselves conspicu 
 ously in the centre of the cafe and sipped their 
 chocolate as though unconscious of any imminent 
 danger, and in apparent freedom from all responsi 
 bilities and care. While MacWilliams and Lang- 
 ham laughed and disputed over a game of dom 
 inoes, the older men exchanged, under cover of 
 their chatter, the few words which they had met 
 to speak. 
 
 The manifestoes, Stuart said, had failed of their 
 purpose. He had already called upon the Presi 
 dent, and had offered to resign his position and 
 leave the country, or to stay and nVht his ma- 
 ligners, and take up arms at once against Men- 
 doza s party. Alvarez had treated him like a son, 
 and bade him be patient. He held that Caesar s 
 wife was above suspicion because she was Cesar s 
 wife, and that no canards posted at midnight could 
 affect his faith in his wife or in his friend. He 
 refused to believe that any coup d etat was immi 
 nent, save the one which he himself meditated 
 when he was ready to proclaim the country in a 
 state of revolution, and to assume a military dic 
 tatorship. 
 
 "What nonsense !" exclaimed Clav. "What is 
 a military dictatorship without soldiers? Can t 
 he see that the army is with Mendoza?" 
 
 184
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "No," Stuart replied. "Rojas and I were with 
 him all the morning. Rojas is an old trump, Clay. 
 He s not bright and he s old-fashioned; but he is 
 honest. And the people know it. If I had Rojas 
 for a chief instead of Alvarez, I d arrest Mendoza 
 with my own hand, and I wouldn t be afraid to 
 take him to the carcel through the streets. The 
 people wouldn t help him. But the President 
 doesn t dare. Not that he hasn t pluck," added 
 the young lieutenant, loyally, "for he takes his 
 life in his hands when he goes to the review to 
 morrow, and he knows it. Think of it, will you, 
 out there alone with a field of five thousand men 
 around him! Rojas thinks he can hold half of 
 them, as many as Mendoza can, and I have my 
 fifty. But you can t tell what any one of them 
 will do for a drink or a dollar. They re no more 
 soldiers than these waiters. They re bandits in uni 
 form, and they ll kill for the man that pays best." 
 
 "Then why doesn t Alvarez pay them?" Clay 
 growled. 
 
 Stuart looked away and lowered his eyes to the 
 table. "He hasn t the money, I suppose," he said, 
 evasively. "He he has transferred every cent of 
 it into drafts on Rothschild. They are at the 
 house now, representing five millions of dollars 
 in gold and her jewels, too packed ready for 
 flight." 
 
 185
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "Then he does expect trouble?" said Clay. 
 "You told me" 
 
 "They re all alike; you know them," said Stu 
 art. "They won t believe they re in danger until 
 the explosion comes, but they always have a special 
 train ready, and they keep the funds of the gov 
 ernment under their pillows. He engaged apart 
 ments on the Avenue Kleber six months ago." 
 
 "Bah!" said Clay. "It s the old story. Why 
 don t you quit him?" 
 
 Stuart raised his eyes and dropped them again, 
 and Clay sighed. "I m sorry," he said, 
 
 MacWilliams interrupted them in an indignant 
 stage-whisper. "Say, how long have we got to 
 keep up this fake game?" he asked. "I don t 
 know anything about dominoes, and neither docs 
 Ted. Tell us what you ve been saying. Is there 
 going to be trouble? If there is, Ted and I want 
 to be In it. We are looking for trouble." 
 
 Clay had tipped back his chair, and was sur 
 veying the restaurant and the blazing plaza be 
 yond its open front with an expression of cheerful 
 unconcern. Two men were reading the morning 
 papers near the door, and two others were drag 
 ging through a game of dominoes in a far corner. 
 The heat ok midday had settled on the place, and 
 the waiters dozed, with their chairs tipped back 
 against the walls. Outside, the awning of the res- 
 
 186
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 taurant threw a broad shadow across the marble- 
 topped tables on the sidewalk, and half a dozen 
 fiacre drivers slept peacefully in their carriages be 
 fore the door. 
 
 The town was taking its siesta, and the brisk 
 step of a stranger who crossed the tessellated floor 
 and rapped with his knuckles on the top of the 
 cigar-case was the only sign of life. The new 
 comer turned with one hand on the glass case and 
 swept the room carelessly with his eyes. They 
 were hard blue eyes under straight eyebrows. 
 Their owner was dressed unobtrusively in a suit 
 of rough tweed, and this and his black hat, and 
 the fact that he was smooth-shaven, distinguished 
 him as a foreigner. 
 
 As he faced them the forelegs of Clay s chair 
 descended slowly to the floor, and he began to 
 smile comprehendingly and to nod his head as 
 though the coming of the stranger had explained 
 something of which he had been in doubt. His 
 companions turned and followed the direction of 
 his eyes, but saw nothing of interest in the new- 
 corner. He looked as though he might be a con 
 cession hunter from the States, or a Manchester 
 drummer, prepared to offer six months credit on 
 blankets and hardware. 
 
 Clay rose and strode across the room, circling 
 the tables in such a way that he could keep him- 
 
 187
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 self between the stranger and the door. At his 
 approach the new-comer turned his back and fum 
 bled with his change on the counter. 
 
 "Captain Burke, I believe?" said Clay. The 
 stranger bit the cigar he had just purchased, and 
 shook his head. "I am very glad to see you," 
 Clay continued. "Sit down, won t you? I want 
 to talk with you." 
 
 "I think you ve made a mistake," the stranger 
 answered, quietly. "My name is 
 
 "Colonel, perhaps, then," said Clay. "I might 
 have known it. I congratulate you, Colonel." 
 
 The man looked at Clay for an instant, with 
 the cigar clenched between his teeth and his blue 
 eyes fixed steadily on the other s face. Clay waved 
 his hand again invitingly toward a table, and the 
 man shrugged his shoulders and laughed, and, 
 pulling a chair toward him, sat down. 
 
 "Come over here, boys," Clay called. "I want 
 you to meet an old friend of mine, Captain Burke." 
 
 The man called Burke stared at the three men 
 as they crossed the room and seated themselves 
 at the table, and nodded to them in silence. 
 
 "We have here," said Clay, gayly, but in a low 
 voice, "the key to the situation. This is the gen 
 tleman who supplies Mendoza with the sinews of 
 war. Captain Burke is a brave soldier and a citi 
 zen of my own or of any country, indeed, which 
 
 1 88
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 happens to have the most sympathetic Consul- 
 General." 
 
 Burke smiled grimly, with a condescending nod, 
 and putting away the cigar, took out a brier pipe 
 and began to fill it from his tobacco-pouch. "The 
 Captain is a man of few words and extremely 
 modest about himself," Clay continued, lightly; 
 "so I must tell you who he is myself. He is a 
 promoter of revolutions. That is his business, 
 a professional promoter of revolutions, and that 
 is what makes me so glad to see him again. He 
 knows all about the present crisis here, and he is 
 going to tell us all he knows as soon as he fills 
 his pipe. I ought to warn you, Burke/ he added, 
 "that this is Captain Stuart, in charge of the po 
 lice and the President s cavalry troop. So, you 
 see, whatever you say, you will have one man who 
 will listen to you," 
 
 Burke crossed one short fat leg over the other, 
 and crowded the tobacco in the bowl of his pipe 
 with his thumb. 
 
 "I thought you were in Chili, Clay," he said. 
 
 "No, you didn t think I was in Chili," Clay 
 replied, kindly. "I left Chili two years ago. The 
 Captain and I met there," he explained to the 
 others, "when Balmaceda was trying to make him 
 self dictator. The Captain was on the side of the 
 Congressionalists, and was furnishing arms and 
 
 189
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 dynamite. The Captain is always on the winning 
 side, at least he always has been up to the pres 
 ent. He is not a creature of sentiment; arc you, 
 Burke? The Captain believes with Napoleon 
 that God is on the side that has the heaviest ar 
 tillery." 
 
 Burke lighted his pipe and drummed absent- 
 mindedly on the table with his match-box. 
 
 "I can t afford to be sentimental," he said. 
 "Not in my business." 
 
 "Of course not," Clay assented, cheerfully. He 
 looked at Burke and laughed, as though the sight 
 of him recalled pleasant memories. "I wish I 
 could give these boys an idea of how clever you 
 are, Captain," he said. "The Captain was the 
 first man, for instance, to think of packing car 
 tridges in tubs of lard, and of sending rifles in 
 piano-cases. He represents the Welby revolver 
 people in England, and half a dozen firms in the 
 States, and he has his little stores in Tampa and 
 Mobile and Jamaica, ready to ship off at a mo 
 ment s notice to any revolution in Central Amer 
 ica. When I first met the Captain," Clay contin 
 ued, gleefully, and quite unmindful of the other s 
 continued silence, "he was starting off to rescue 
 Arabi Pasha from the island of Ceylon. You may 
 remember, boys, that when Dufferin saved Arabi 
 from hanging, the British shipped him to Ceylon 
 
 190
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 as a political prisoner. Well, the Captain was 
 sent by Arabi s followers in Egypt to bring him 
 back to lead a second rebellion. Burke had every 
 body bribed at Ceylon, and a fine schooner fitted 
 out and a lot of ruffians to do the fighting, and 
 then the good, kind British Government pardoned 
 Arabi the day before Burke arrived in port. And 
 you never got a cent for it; did you, Burke?" 
 
 Burke shook his head and frowned. 
 
 "Six thousand pounds sterling I was to have got 
 for that," he said, with a touch of pardonable 
 pride in his voice, "and they set him free the day 
 before I got there, just as Mr. Clay tells you." 
 
 "And then you headed Granville Prior s expe 
 dition for buried treasure off the island of Cocos, 
 didn t you?" said Clay. "Go on, tell them about 
 it. Be sociable. You ought to write a book about 
 your different business ventures, Burke, indeed you 
 ought; but then," Clay added, smiling, "nobody 
 would believe you." Burke rubbed his chin, 
 thoughtfully, with his fingers, and looked mod 
 estly at the ceiling, and the two younger boys 
 gazed at him with open-mouthed interest. 
 
 "There ain t anything in buried treasure," he 
 said, after a pause, "except the money that s sunk 
 in the fitting out. It sounds good, but it s all 
 foolishness." 
 
 "All foolishness, eh?" said Clay, encouraging- 
 191
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 ly. "And what did you do after Balmaceda was 
 beaten? after I last saw you?" 
 
 "Crespo," Burke replied, after a pause, during 
 which he pulled gently on his pipe. " Caroline 
 Brewer cleared from Key West for Curasao, 
 with cargo of sewing-machines and ploughs 
 beached below Maracaibo thirty-five thousand 
 rounds and two thousand rifles at twenty boli 
 vars apiece." 
 
 "Of course," said Clay, in a tone of genuine 
 appreciation. "I might have known you d be in 
 that. He says," he explained, "that he assisted 
 General Crespo in Venezuela during his revolution 
 against Guzman Blanco s party, and loaded a 
 tramp steamer called the Caroline Brewer at Key 
 West with arms, which he landed safely at a place 
 for which he had no clearance papers, and he re 
 ceived forty thousand dollars in our money for 
 the job and very good pay, too, I should think," 
 commented Clay. 
 
 "Well, I don t know," Burke demurred. "You 
 take in the cost of leasing the boat and provision 
 ing her, and the crew s wages, and the cost of the 
 cargo; that cuts into profits. Then I had to stand 
 off shore between Trinidad and Curacao for over 
 three weeks before I got the signal to run in, and 
 after that I was chased by a gun-boat for three 
 days, and the crazy fool put a shot clean through 
 
 192
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 my engine-room. Cost me about twelve hundred 
 dollars in repairs." 
 
 There was a pause, and Clay turned his eyes 
 to the street, and then asked, abruptly, "What are 
 you doing now?" 
 
 "Trying to get orders for smokeless powder," 
 Burke answered, promptly. Pie met Clay s look 
 with eyes as undisturbed as his own. "But they 
 won t touch it down here," he went on. "It 
 doesn t appeal to em. It s too expensive, and 
 they d rather see the smoke. It makes them 
 think" 
 
 "How long did you expect to stay here?" Clay 
 interrupted. 
 
 "How long?" repeated Burke, like a man in a 
 witness-box who is trying to gain time. "Well, I 
 was thinking of leaving by Friday, and taking a 
 mule-train over to Bogota instead of waiting for 
 the steamer to Colon." He blew a mouthful of 
 smoke into the air and watched it drifting toward 
 the door with apparent interest. 
 
 "The Santiago leaves here Saturday for New 
 York. I guess you had better wait over for her," 
 Clay said. "I ll engage your passage, and, in the 
 meantime, Captain Stuart here will see that they 
 treat you well in the cuartel." 
 
 The men around the table started, and sat mo- 
 tionless looking at Clay, but Burke only took his 
 
 193
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 pipe from his mouth and knocked the ashes out 
 on the heel of his boot. "What am I going to 
 the cuartel for?" he asked. 
 
 "Well, the public good, I suppose," laughed 
 Clay. "I m sorry, but it s your own fault. You 
 shouldn t have shown yourself here at all." 
 
 "What have you got to do with it?" asked 
 Burke, calmly, as he began to refill his pipe. He 
 had the air of a man who saw nothing before him 
 but an afternoon of pleasant discourse and lei 
 surely inactivity. 
 
 "You know what I ve got to do with it," Clay 
 replied. "I ve got our concession to look after." 
 
 "Well, you re not running the town, too, are 
 you?" asked Burke. 
 
 "No, but I m going to run you out of it," Clay 
 answered. "Now, what are you going to do, 
 make it unpleasant for us and force our hand, or 
 drive down quietly with our friend MacWilliams 
 here? He is the best one to take you, because he s 
 not so well known." 
 
 Burke turned his head and looked over his 
 shoulder at Stuart. 
 
 "You taking orders from Mr. Clay, to-day, 
 Captain Stuart?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes," Stuart answered, smiling. "I agree with 
 Mr. Clay in whatever he thinks right." 
 
 "Oh, well, in that case," said Burke, rising re- 
 1194
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 luctantly, with a protesting sigh, "I guess I d bet 
 ter call on the American minister." 
 
 "You can t. He s in Ecuador on his annual 
 visit," said Clay. 
 
 "Indeed ! That s bad for me," muttered Burke, 
 as though in much concern. "Well, then, I ll ask 
 you to let me see our consul here." 
 
 "Certainly," Clay assented, with alacrity. "Mr. 
 Langham, this young gentleman s father, got him 
 his appointment, so I ve no doubt he ll be only 
 too glad to do anything for a friend of ours." 
 
 Burke raised his eyes and looked inquiringly at 
 Clay, as though to assure himself that this was 
 true, and Clay smiled back at him. 
 
 "Oh, very well," Burke said. "Then, as I hap 
 pen to be an Irishman by the name of Burke, and 
 a British subject, I ll try Her Majesty s repre 
 sentative, and we ll see if he will allow me to be 
 locked up without a reason or a warrant." 
 
 "That s no good, either," said Clay, shaking 
 his head. "You fixed your nationality, as far as 
 this continent is concerned, in Rio harbor, when 
 Peixoto handed you over to the British admiral, 
 and you claimed to be an American citizen, and 
 were sent on board the Detroit. If there s any 
 doubt about that we ve only got to cable to Rio 
 Janeiro to either legation. But what s the use? 
 They know me here, and they don t know you, 
 
 195
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 and I do. You ll have to go to jail and stay 
 there." 
 
 "Oh, well, if you put it that way, I ll go," said 
 Burke. "But," he added, in a lower voice, "it s 
 too late, Clay." 
 
 The expression of amusement on Clay s face, 
 and his ease of manner, fell from him at the words, 
 and he pulled Burke back into the chair again. 
 "What do you mean?" he asked, anxiously. 
 
 "I mean just that, it s too late," Burke an 
 swered. "I don t mind going to jail. I won t be 
 there long. My work s all done and paid for. 
 I was only staying on to see the fun at the finish, 
 to see you fellows made fools of." 
 
 "Oh, you re sure of that, are you?" asked Clay. 
 
 "My dear boy!" exclaimed the American, with 
 a suggestion in his speech of his Irish origin, as 
 his interest rose. "Did you ever know me to go 
 into anything of this sort for the sentiment of it? 
 Did you ever know me to back the losing side? 
 No. Well, I tell you that you fellows have no 
 more show in this than a parcel of Sunday-school 
 children. Of course I can t say when they mean 
 to strike. I don t know, and I wouldn t tell you 
 if I did. But when they do strike there ll be no 
 striking back. It ll be all over but the cheering." 
 
 Burke s tone was calm and positive. He held 
 the centre of the stage now, and he looked from 
 
 196
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 one to the other of the serious faces around him 
 with an expression of pitying amusement. 
 
 "Alvarez may get off, and so may Madame 
 Alvarez," he added, lowering his voice and turn 
 ing his face away from Stuart. "But not if she 
 shows herself in the streets, and not if she tries 
 to take those drafts and jewels with her." 
 
 "Oh, you know that, do you?" interrupted Clay. 
 
 "I know nothing," Burke replied. "At least, 
 nothing to what the rest of them know. That s 
 only the gossip I pick up at headquarters. It 
 doesn t concern me. I ve delivered my goods and 
 given my receipt for the money, and that s all I 
 care about. But if it will make an old friend fee! 
 any more comfortable to have me in jail, why, I ll 
 go, that s all" 
 
 Clay sat with pursed lips looking at Stuart. 
 The two boys leaned with their elbows on the 
 tables and stared at Burke, who was searching lei 
 surely through his pockets for his match-box. From 
 outside came the lazy cry of a vendor of lottery 
 tickets, and the swift, uneven patter of bare feet, 
 as company after company of dust-covered soldiers 
 passed on their way from the provinces, with their 
 shoes swinging from their bayonets. 
 
 Clay slapped the table with an exclamation of 
 impatience. 
 
 "After all, this is only a matter of business, 1 
 197
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 he said, "with all of us. What do you say, Burke, 
 to taking a ride with me to Stuart s rooms, and 
 having a talk there with the President and Mr. 
 Langham? Langham has three millions sunk in 
 these mines, and Alvarez has even better reasons 
 than that for wanting to hold his job. What do 
 you say? That s better than going to jail. Tell 
 us what they mean to do, and who is to do it, and 
 I ll let you name your own figure, and I ll guar 
 antee you that they ll meet it. As long as you ve 
 no sentiment, you might as well fight on the side 
 that will pay best." 
 
 Burke opened his lips as though to speak, and 
 then shut them again, closely. If the others 
 thought that he was giving Clay s proposition a 
 second and more serious thought, he was quick to 
 undeceive them. 
 
 "There are men in the business who do that 
 sort of thing," he said. "They sell arms to one 
 man, and sell the fact that he s got them to the 
 deputy-marshals, and sell the story of how smart 
 they ve been to the newspapers. And they never 
 make any more sales after that. I d look pretty, 
 wouldn t I, bringing stuff into this country, and 
 getting paid for it, and then telling you where it 
 was hid, and everything else I knew? I ve no 
 sentiment, as you say, but I ve got business in 
 stinct, and that s not business. No, I ve told you 
 
 198
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 enough, and if you think I m not safe at large, 
 why I m quite ready to take a ride with your 
 young friend here." 
 
 MacWilliams rose with alacrity, and beaming 
 with pleasure at the importance of the duty thrust 
 upon him. 
 
 Burke smiled. "The young un seems to like 
 the job," he said. 
 
 "It s an honor to be associated with Captain 
 Burke in any way," said MacWilliams, as he fol 
 lowed him into a cab, while Stuart galloped oft 
 before them in the direction of the cuartel. 
 
 "You wouldn t think so if you knew better," 
 said Burke. "My friends have been watching us 
 while we have been talking in there for the last 
 hour. They re watching us now, and if I were 
 to nod my head during this ride, they d throw you 
 out into the street and set me free, if they had 
 to break the cab into kindling-wood while they 
 were doing it." 
 
 MacWilliams changed his seat to the one oppo 
 site his prisoner, and peered up and down the 
 street in some anxiety. 
 
 "I suppose you know there s an answer to that, 
 don t you?" he asked. "Well, the answer is, that 
 if you nod your head once, you lose the top of it." 
 
 Burke gave an exclamation of disgust, and 
 gazed at his zealous guardian with an expres- 
 
 199
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 sion of trepidation and unconcealed disapproval. 
 "You re not armed, are you?" he asked. 
 
 MacWilliams nodded. "Why not?" he said; 
 "these are rather heavy weather times, just at 
 present, thanks to you and your friends. Why, 
 you seem rather afraid of fire-arms," he added, 
 with the intolerance of youth. 
 
 The Irish-American touched the young man on 
 the knee, and lifted his hat. "My son," he said, 
 "when your hair is as gray as that, and you have 
 been through six campaigns, you ll be brave enough 
 to own that you re afraid of fire-arms, too." 
 
 200
 
 X 
 
 CLAY and Langham left MacWilliams and 
 Stuart to look after their prisoner, and re 
 turned to the Palms, where they dined in state, 
 and made no reference, while the women were 
 present, to the events of the day. 
 
 The moon rose late that night, and as Hope 
 watched it, from where she sat at the dinner-table 
 facing the open windows, she saw the figure of 
 a man standing outlined in silhouette upon the 
 edge of the cliff. He was dressed in the uniform 
 of a sailor, and the moonlight played along the 
 barrel of a rifle upon which he leaned, motionless 
 and menacing, like a sentry on a rampart. 
 
 Hope opened her lips to speak, and then closed 
 them again, and smiled with pleasurable excite 
 ment. A moment later King, who sat on her right, 
 called one of the servants to his side and whis 
 pered some instructions, pointing meanwhile at the 
 wine upon the table. And a minute after, Hope 
 saw the v,hite figure of the servant cross the gar 
 den and approach the sentinel. She saw the sen 
 try fling his gun sharply to his hip, and then, after 
 
 201
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 a moment s parley, toss it up to his shoulder and 
 disappear from sight among the plants of the 
 garden. 
 
 The men did not leave the table with the ladies, 
 as was their custom, but remained in the dining- 
 room, and drew their chairs closer together. 
 
 Mr. Langham would not believe that the down 
 fall of the Government was as imminent as the 
 others believed it to be. It was only after much 
 argument, and with great reluctance, that he had 
 even allowed King to arm half of his crew, and 
 to place them on guard around the Palms. Clay 
 warned him that in the disorder that followed 
 every successful revolution, the homes of unpopu 
 lar members of the Cabinet were often burned, 
 and that he feared, should Mendoza succeed, and 
 Alvarez fall, that the mob might possibly vent 
 Its victorious wrath on the Palms because it was 
 the home of the alien, who had, as they thought, 
 robbed the country of the iron mines. Mr. Lang- 
 ham said he did not think the people would tramp 
 five miles into the country seeking vengeance. 
 
 There was an American man-of-war lying in 
 the harbor of Truxillo, a seaport of the republic 
 that bounded Olancho on the south, and Clay was 
 in favor of sending to her captain by Weimer, 
 the Consul, and asking him to anchor off Valencia, 
 to protect American interests. The run would 
 
 202
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 take but a few hours, and the sight of the vessel s 
 white hull in the harbor would, he thought, have 
 a salutary effect upon the -evolutionists. But Mr. 
 Langham said, firmly, that he would not ask for 
 help until he needed it. 
 
 "Well, I m sorry," said Clay, U I should very 
 much like to have that man-of-war here. How 
 ever, if you say no, we will try to get along with 
 out her. But, for the present, I think you had 
 better imagine yourself back in New York, and 
 let us have an entirely free hand. We ve gone 
 too far to drop out," he went on, laughing at the 
 sight of Mr. Langham s gloomy countenance. 
 "We ve got to fight them now. It s against hu 
 man nature not to do it." 
 
 Mr. Langham looked appealingly at his son 
 and at King. 
 
 They both smiled back at him in unanimous 
 disapproval of his policy of non-interference. 
 
 "Oh, very well," he said, at last. "You gentle 
 men can go ahead, kill, burn, and destroy if you 
 wish. But, considering the fact that it is my prop 
 erty you are all fighting about, I really think I 
 might have something to say in the matter." Mr. 
 Langham gazed about him helplessly, and shook 
 his head. 
 
 "My doctor sends me down here from a quiet, 
 happy home," he protested, with humorous pathos, 
 
 203
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "that I may rest and get away from excitement, 
 and here I am with armed men patrolling my 
 garden-paths, with a lot of filibusters plotting at 
 my own dinner-table, and a civil war likely to 
 break out, entirely on my account. And Dr. Win 
 ter told me this was the only place that would 
 cure my nervous prostration!" 
 
 Hope joined Clay as soon as the men left the 
 dining-room, and beckoned him to the farther end 
 of the veranda. "Well, what is it?" she said. 
 
 "What is what?" laughed Clay. He seated 
 himself on the rail of the veranda, with his face 
 to the avenue and the driveway leading to the 
 house. They could hear the others from the back 
 of the house, and the voice of young Langham, 
 who was giving an imitation of MacWilliams, and 
 singing with peculiar emphasis, "There is no place 
 like Home, Sweet Home." 
 
 "Why are the men guarding the Palms, and 
 why did you go to the Plaza Bolivar this morning 
 at daybreak? Alice says you left them there. I 
 want to know what it means. I am nearly as old 
 as Ted, and he knows. The men wouldn t tell 
 me." 
 
 "What men?" 
 
 "King s men from the Vesta . I saw some of 
 them dodging around in the bushes, and I went 
 to find out what they were doing, and I walked 
 
 204
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 into fifteen of them at your office. They have 
 hammocks swung all over the veranda, and a quick- 
 firing gun made fast to the steps, and muskets 
 stacked all about, just like real soldiers, but they 
 wouldn t tell me why." 
 
 "We ll put you in the carcel," said Clay, "if 
 you go spying on our forces. Your father doesn t 
 wish you to know anything about it, but, since 
 you have found it out for yourself, you might as 
 well know what little there is to know. It s the 
 same story. Mendoza is getting ready to start 
 his revolution, or, rather, he has started it." 
 
 "Why don t you stop him?" asked Hope. 
 
 "You are very flattering," said Clay. "Even 
 if I could stop him, it s not my business to do it 
 as yet. I have .to wait until he interferes with me, 
 or my mines, or my workmen. Alvarez is the 
 man who should stop him, but he is afraid. We 
 cannot do anything until he makes the first move. 
 If I were the President, I d have Mendoza shot 
 to-morrow morning and declare martial law. Then 
 I d arrest everybody I didn t like, and levy forced 
 loans on all the merchants, and sail away to Paris 
 and live happy ever after. That s what Mendoza 
 would do if he caught any one plotting against 
 him. And that s what Alvarez should do, too, 
 according to his lights, if he had the courage of 
 his convictions, and of his education. I like to 
 
 205
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 see a man play his part properly, don t you? If 
 you are an emperor, you ought to conduct yourself 
 like one, as our German friend does. Or if you 
 are a prize-fighter, you ought to be a human bull 
 dog. There s no such thing as a gentlemanly pu 
 gilist, any more than there can be a virtuous burg 
 lar. And if you re a South American Dictator, 
 you can t afford to be squeamish about throwing 
 your enemies into jail or shooting them for trea 
 son. The way to dictate is to dictate, not to 
 hide indoors all day while your wife plots for 
 you." 
 
 "Does she do that?" asked Hope. "And do 
 you think she will be in danger any personal 
 danger, if the revolution comes?" 
 
 "Well, she is very unpopular," Clay answered, 
 "and unjustly so, I think. But it would be better, 
 perhaps, for her if she went as quietly as possible, 
 when she does go." 
 
 "Is our Captain Stuart in danger, too?" the 
 girl continued, anxiously. "Alice says they put 
 up placards about him all over the city last night. 
 She saw his men tearing them down as she was 
 coming home. What has he done?" 
 
 "Nothing," Clay answered, shortly. "He hap 
 pens to be in a false position, that s all. They 
 think he is here because he is not wanted in his 
 own country; that is not so. That is not the 
 
 206
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 reason he remains here. When he was even 
 younger than he is now, he was wild and foolish, 
 and spent more money than he could afford, and 
 lent more money to his brother-officers, I have 
 no doubt, than they ever paid back. He had to 
 leave the regiment because his father wouldn t 
 pay his debts, and he has been selling his sword 
 for the last three years to one or another king 
 or sultan or party all over the world, in China and 
 Madagascar, and later in Siam. I hope you will 
 be very kind to Stuart and believe well of him, 
 and that you will listen to no evil against him. 
 Somewhere in England Stuart has a sister like you 
 about your age, I mean, that loves him very 
 dearly, and a father whose heart aches for him, 
 and there is a certain royal regiment that still 
 drinks his health with pride. He is a lonely little 
 chap, and he has no sense of humor to help him 
 out of his difficulties, but he is a very brave gentle 
 man. And he is here fighting for men who are 
 not worthy to hold his horse s bridle, because of 
 a woman. And I tell you this because you will 
 hear many lies about him and about her. He 
 serves her with the same sort of chivalric devotion 
 that his ancestors felt for the woman whose rib 
 bons they tied to their lances, and for whom they 
 fought in the lists." 
 
 "I understand," Hope said, softly. "I am glad 
 207
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 you told me. I shall not forget." She sighed 
 and shook her head. "I wish they d let you man 
 age it for them," she said. 
 
 Clay laughed. "I fear my executive ability is 
 not of so high an order; besides, as I haven t been 
 born to it, my conscience might trouble me if I 
 had to shoot my enemies and rob the worthy mer 
 chants. I had better stick to digging holes in the 
 ground. That is all I seem to be good for." 
 
 Hope looked up at him, quickly, in surprise. 
 
 "What do you mean by that?" she demanded. 
 There was a tone of such sharp reproach in her 
 voice that Clay felt himself put on the defensive. 
 
 "I mean nothing by it," he said. "Your sister 
 and I had a talk the other day about a man s 
 making the best of himself, and it opened my eyes 
 to to many things. It was a very healthy les 
 son." 
 
 "It could not have been a very healthy lesson," 
 Hope replied, severely, "if it makes you speak of 
 your work slightingly, as you did then. That 
 didn t sound at all natural, or like you. It sound 
 ed like Alice. Tell me, did Alice say that?" 
 
 The pleasure of hearing Hope take his part 
 against himself was so comforting to Clay that 
 he hesitated in answering in order to enjoy it the 
 longer. Her enthusiasm touched him deeply, and 
 he wondered if she were enthusiastic because she 
 
 208
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 was young, or because she was sure she was right, 
 and that he was in the wrong. 
 
 "It started this way," Clay began, carefully. 
 He was anxious to be quite fair to Miss Langham, 
 but he found it difficult to give her point of view 
 correctly, while he was hungering for a word that 
 would re-establish him in his own good opinion. 
 "Your sister said she did not think very much of 
 what I had done, but she explained kindly that 
 she hoped for better things from me. But what 
 troubles me is, that I will never do anything much 
 better or very different in kind from the work I 
 have done lately, and so I am a bit discouraged 
 about it in consequence. You see," said Clay, 
 "when I come to die, and they ask me what I have 
 done with my ten fingers, I suppose I will have 
 to say, Well, I built such and such railroads, and 
 I dug up so many tons of ore, and opened new 
 countries, and helped make other men rich I 
 .an t urge in my behalf that I happen to have been 
 so fortunate as to have gained the good-will of 
 yourself or your sister. That is quite reason 
 enough to me, perhaps, for having lived, but it 
 might not appeal to them. I want to feel that I 
 have accomplished something outside of myself- 
 something that will remain after I go. Even if it 
 is only a breakwater or a patent coupling. When 
 I am dead it will not matter to any one what I 
 
 209
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 personally was, whether I was a bore or a most 
 charming companion, or whether 1 had red hair 
 or blue. It is the work that will tell. And when 
 your sister, whose judgment is the judgment of 
 the outside world, more or less, says that the work 
 is not worth while, I naturally feel a bit discour 
 aged. It meant so much to me, and it hurt me 
 to find it meant so little to others." 
 
 Hope remained silent for some time, but the 
 rigidity of her attitude, and the tightness with 
 which she pressed her lips together, showed that 
 her mind was deeply occupied. They both sat 
 silent for some few moments, looking down toward 
 the distant lights of the city. At the farther end 
 of the double row of bushes that lined the avenue 
 they could see one of King s sentries passing to 
 and fro across the roadway, a long black shadow 
 on the moonlit road. 
 
 "You are very unfair to yourself," the girl said 
 at last, "and Alice does not represent the opinion 
 of the world, only of a very small part of it 
 her own little world. She does not know how 
 little it is. And you are wrong as to what they 
 will ask you at the end. What will they care 
 whether you built railroads or painted impression 
 ist pictures? They will ask you What have you 
 made of yourself? Have you been fine, and 
 strong, and sincere? That Is what they will ask. 
 
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 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 And we like you because you are all of these 
 things, and because you look at life so cheerfully, 
 and arc unafraid. We do not like men because 
 they build railroads, or because they are prime- 
 ministers. We like them for what they are them 
 selves. And as to your work!" Hope added, and 
 then paused in eloquent silence. "I think it is a 
 grand work, and a noble work, full of hardships 
 and self-sacrifices. I do not know of any man who 
 has done more with his life than you have done 
 with yours." She stopped and controlled her voice 
 before she spoke again. "You should be very 
 proud," she said. 
 
 Clay lowered his eyes and sat silent, looking 
 down the roadway. The thought that the girl 
 felt what she said so deeply, and that the fact that 
 she had said it meant more to him than anything 
 else in the world could mean, left him thrilled 
 and trembling. He wanted to reach out his hand 
 and seize both of hers, and tell her how much she 
 was to him, but it seemed like taking advantage 
 of the truths of a confessional, or of a child s inno 
 cent confidences. 
 
 "No, Miss Hope," he answered, with an effort 
 to speak lightly, "I wish I could believe you, but 
 I know myself better than any one else can, and 
 I know that while my bridges may stand exam 
 ination / can t." 
 
 211
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 Hope turned and looked at him with eyes full 
 of such sweet meaning that he was forced to turn 
 his own away. 
 
 "I could trust both, I think," the girl said. 
 
 Clay drew a quick, deep breath, and started to 
 his feet, as though he had thrown off the restraint 
 under which he had held himself. 
 
 It was not a girl, but a woman who had spoken 
 then, but, though he turned eagerly toward her, 
 he stood with his head bowed, and did not dare 
 to read the verdict in her eyes. 
 
 The clatter of horses hoofs coming toward 
 them at a gallop broke in rudely upon the tense 
 stillness of the moment, but neither noticed it. 
 "How far," Clay began, in a strained voice, "how 
 far," he asked, more steadily, "could you trust 
 me?" 
 
 Hope s eyes had closed for an instant, and 
 opened again, and she smiled upon him with a 
 look of perfect confidence and content. The beat 
 of the horses hoofs came now from the end of 
 the driveway, and they could hear the men at the 
 rear of the house pushing back their chairs and 
 hurrying toward them. Hope raised her head, 
 and Clay moved toward her eagerly. The horses 
 were within a hundred yards. Before Hope could 
 speak, the sentry s voice rang out in a hoarse, 
 sharp challenge, like an alarm of fire on the silent
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 night. "Halt !" they heard him cry. And as the 
 horses tore past him, and their riders did not turn 
 to look, he shouted again, "Halt, damn you !" and 
 fired. The flash showed a splash of red and yel 
 low in the moonlight, and the report started into 
 life hundreds of echoes which carried it far out 
 over the waters of the harbor, and tossed it into 
 sharp angles, and distant corners, and in an In 
 stant a myriad of sounds answered it; the fright 
 ened cry of night-birds, the barking of dogs in the 
 village below, and the footsteps of men running. 
 
 Clay glanced angrily down the avenue, and 
 turned beseechingly to Hope. 
 
 "Go," she said. "See what is wrong," and 
 moved away as though she already felt that he 
 could act more freely when she was not near 
 him. 
 
 The two horses fell back on their haunches be 
 fore the steps, and MacWilliams and Stuart tum 
 bled out of their sadddles, and started, running 
 back on foot in the direction from which the shot 
 had come, tugging at their revolvers. 
 
 "Come back," Clay shouted to them. "That s 
 all right. He was only obeying orders. That s 
 one of King s sentries." 
 
 "Oh, is that it?" said Stuart, in matter-of-fact 
 tones, as he turned again to the house. "Good 
 idea. Tell him to fire lower next time. And, I 
 
 213
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 say," he went on, as he bowed curtly to the assem 
 bled company on the veranda, "since you have 
 got a picket out, you had better double it. And, 
 Clay, see that no one leaves here without per 
 mission no one. That s more important, even, 
 than keeping them out." 
 
 "King, will you Clay began. 
 
 "All right, General," laughed King, and walked 
 away to meet his sailors, who came running up 
 the hill in great anxiety. 
 
 MacWilliams had not opened his lips, but he 
 was bristling with importance, and his effort to 
 appear calm and soldierly, like Stuart, told more 
 plainly than speech that he was the bearer of some 
 invaluable secret. The sight filled young Lang- 
 ham with a disquieting fear that he had missed 
 something. 
 
 Stuart looked about him, and pulled briskly at 
 his gauntlets. King and his sailors were grouped 
 together on the grass before the house. Mr. 
 Langham and his daughters, and Clay, were stand 
 ing on the steps, and the servants were peering 
 around the corners of the house. 
 
 Stuart saluted Mr. Langham, as though to at 
 tract his especial attention, and then addressed 
 himself In a low tone to Clay. 
 
 "It s come," he said. "We ve been in it since 
 dinner-time, and we ve got a whole night s work 
 
 214
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 cut out for you." He was laughing with excite 
 ment, and paused for a moment to gain breath. 
 "I ll tell you the worst of it first. Mendoza has 
 sent word to Alvarez that he wants the men at 
 the mines to be present at the review to-morrow. 
 He says they must take part. He wrote a most 
 insolent letter. Alvarez got out of it by saying 
 that the men were under contract to you, and that 
 you must give your permission first. Mendoza 
 sent me word that if you would not let the men 
 come, he would go out and fetch them In him 
 self." 
 
 "Indeed!" growled Clay. "Kirkland needs 
 those men to-morrow to load ore-cars for ThurS 
 day s steamer. He can t spare them. That is our 
 answer, and it happens to be a true one, but if 
 it weren t true, if to-morrow was All Saints Day, 
 and the men had nothing to do but to lie in the 
 sun and sleep, Mendoza couldn t get them. And 
 if he comes to take them to-morrow, he ll have 
 to bring his army with him to do it. And he 
 couldn t do it then, Mr. Langham," Clay cried, 
 turning to that gentleman, "if I had better weap 
 ons. The five thousand dollars I wanted you to 
 spend on rifles, sir, two months ago, might have 
 saved you several millions to-morrow." 
 
 Clay s words seemed to bear some special sig 
 nificance to Stuart and MacWilliams, for they both 
 
 215
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 laughed, and Stuart pushed Clay up the steps be 
 fore him. 
 
 "Come inside," he said. "That is why we are 
 here. MacWilliams has found out where Burke 
 hid his shipment of arms. We are going to try 
 and get them to-night." He hurried into the 
 dining-room, and the others grouped themselves 
 about the table. "Tell them about it, MacWil 
 liams," Stuart commanded. "I will see that no 
 one overhears you." 
 
 MacWilliams was pushed into Mr. Langham s 
 place at the head of the long table, and the others 
 dragged their chairs up close around him. King 
 put the candles at the opposite end of the table, 
 and set some decanters and glasses in the centre. 
 "To look as though we were just enjoying our 
 selves," he explained, pleasantly. 
 
 Mr. Langham, with his fine, delicate fingers 
 beating nervously on the table, observed the scene 
 as an on-looker, rather than as the person chiefly 
 interested. He smiled as he appreciated the in 
 congruity of the tableau, and the contrast which 
 the actors presented to the situation. He imagined 
 how much it would amuse his contemporaries of 
 the Union Club, at home, if they could see him 
 then, with the still, tropical night outside, the can 
 dles reflected on the polished table and on the 
 angles of the decanters, and showing the intent 
 
 216
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 taces of the young girls and the men leaning eager 
 ly forward around MacWilliams, who sat con 
 scious and embarrassed, his hair dishevelled, and 
 his face covered with dust, while Stuart paced up 
 and down in the shadow, his sabre clanking as he 
 walked. 
 
 "Well, it happened like this," MacWilliams 
 began, nervously, and addressing himself to Clay. 
 "Stuart and I put Burke safely in a cell by him 
 self. It was one of the old ones that face the 
 street. There was a narrow window in it, about 
 eight feet above the floor, and no means of his 
 reaching it, even if he stood on a chair. We sta 
 tioned two troopers before the door, and sent out 
 to a cafe across the street for our dinners. I fin 
 ished mine about nine o clock, and said Good 
 night to Stuart, and started to come out here. 
 I went across the street first, however, to give the 
 restaurant man some orders about Burke s break 
 fast. It is a narrow street, you know, with a long 
 garden-wall and a row of little shops on one side, 
 and with the jail-wall taking up all of the other 
 side. The street was empty when I left the jail, 
 except for the sentry on guard In front of it, but 
 just as I was leaving the restaurant I saw one of 
 Stuart s police come out and peer up and down 
 the street and over at the shops. He looked 
 frightened and anxious, and as I wasn t taking 
 
 217
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 chances on anything, I stepped back Into the res 
 taurant and watched him through the window. 
 He waited until the sentry had turned his back, 
 and started away from him on his post, and then 
 I saw him drop his sabre so that it rang on the 
 sidewalk. He was standing, I noticed then, di 
 rectly under the third window from the door of 
 the jail. That was the window of Burke s cell. 
 When I grasped that fact I got out my gun and 
 walked to the door of the restaurant. Just as I 
 reached it a piece of paper shot out through the 
 bars of Burke s cell and fell at the policeman s 
 feet, and he stamped his boot down on it and 
 looked all around again to see if any one had no 
 ticed him. I thought that was my cue, and I ran 
 across the street with my gun pointed, and shouted 
 to him to give me the paper. He jumped about 
 a foot when he first saw me, but he was game, 
 for he grabbed up the paper and stuck it in his 
 mouth and began to chew on it. I was right up 
 on him then, and I hit him on the chin with my 
 left fist and knocked him down against the wall, 
 and dropped on him with both knees and choked 
 him till I made him spit out the paper and two 
 teeth," MacWilliams added, with a conscientious 
 regard for details. "The sentry turned just then 
 and came at me with his bayonet, but I put my 
 finger to my lips, and that surprised him, so that 
 
 218
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 he didn t know just what to do, and hesitated. 
 You see, I didn t want Burke to hear the row 
 outside, so I grabbed my policeman by the collar 
 and pointed to the jail-door, and the sentry ran 
 back and brought out Stuart and the guard. Stu 
 art was pretty mad when he saw his policeman 
 all bloody. He thought it would prejudice his 
 other men against us, but 1 explained out loud 
 that the man had been insolent, and I asked Stuart 
 to take us both to his private room for a hearing, 
 and, of course, when I told him what had hap 
 pened, he wanted to punch the chap, too. We 
 put him ourselves into a cell where he could not 
 communicate with any one, and then we read the 
 paper. Stuart has it," said MacWilliams, push 
 ing back his chair, "and he ll tell you the rest." 
 There was a pause, in which every one seemed 
 to take time to breathe, and then a chorus of ques 
 tions and explanations. King lifted his glass to 
 MacWilliams, and nodded. 
 
 " Well done, Condor, " he quoted, smiling. 
 
 "Yes," said Clay, tapping the younger man on 
 the shoulder as he passed him. "That s good 
 work. Now show us the paper, Stuart." 
 
 Stuart pulled the candles toward him, and 
 spread a slip of paper on the table. 
 
 "Burke did this up in one of those paper boxes 
 for wax matches," he explained, "and weighted it 
 
 219
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 with a twenty-dollar gold piece. MacWilliams 
 kept the gold piece, I believe." 
 
 "Going to use it for a scarf-pin," explained 
 MacWilliams, in parenthesis. "Sort of war- 
 medal, like the Chief s," he added, smiling. 
 
 "This is in Spanish," Stuart explained. "I will 
 translate it. It is not addressed to any one, and 
 it is not signed, but it was evidently written to 
 Mendoza, and we know it is in Burke s hand 
 writing, for we compared it with some notes of 
 his that we took from him before he was locked 
 up. He says, I cannot keep the appointment, as 
 I have been arrested. The line that follows 
 here," Stuart explained, raising his head, "has 
 been scratched out, but we spent some time over it, 
 and we made out that it read: It was Mr. Clay 
 who recognized me, and ordered my arrest. He 
 is the best man the others have. Watch him. We 
 think he rubbed that out through good feeling 
 toward Clay. There seems to be no other reason. 
 He s a very good sort, this old Burke, I think." 
 
 "Well, never mind him; it was very decent 
 of him, anyway," said Clay. "Go on. Get to 
 Hecuba." 
 
 " I cannot keep the appointment, as I have 
 been arrested, " repeated Stuart. " I landed the 
 goods last night in safety. I could not come in 
 when first signalled, as the wind and tide were 
 
 220
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 both off shore. But we got all the stuff stored 
 away by morning. Your agent paid me in full 
 and got my receipt. Please consider this as the 
 same thing as the equivalent it is difficult to 
 translate it exactly," commented Stuart as the 
 equivalent of the receipt I was to have given when 
 I made my report to-night. I sent three of your 
 guards away on my own responsibility, for I think 
 more than that number might attract attention to 
 the spot, and they might be seen from the ore- 
 trains. That is the point of the note for us, of 
 course," Stuart interrupted himself to say. "Burke 
 adds," he went on, " that they are to make no 
 effort to rescue him, as he is quite comfortable, 
 and is willing to remain in the carcel until they 
 are established in power. 
 
 "Within sight of the ore-trains!" exclaimed 
 Clay. "There are no ore-trains but ours. It must 
 be along the line of the road." 
 
 "MacWilliams says he knows every foot of land 
 along the railroad," said Stuart, "and he is sure 
 the place Burke means is the old fortress on the 
 Platta inlet, because " 
 
 "It is the only place," interrupted MacWilliams, 
 "where there is no surf. They could run small 
 boats up the inlet and unload in smooth water 
 within twenty feet of the ramparts; and another 
 thing, that is the only point on the line with a 
 
 221
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 wagon road running direct from it to the Capital. 
 It s an old road, and hasn t been travelled over 
 for years, but it could be used. No," he added, 
 as though answering the doubt in Clay s mind, 
 "there is no other place. If I had a map here I 
 could show you in a minute; where the beach is 
 level there is a jungle between it and the road, and 
 wherever there is open country, there is a limestone 
 formation and rocks between it and the sea, where 
 no boat could touch." 
 
 "But the fortress is so conspicuous," Clay de 
 murred; "the nearest rampart is within twenty feet 
 of the road. Don t you remember we measured 
 it when we thought of laying the double track?" 
 
 "That is just what Burke says," urged Stuart. 
 "That is the reason he gives for leaving only 
 three men on guard I think more than that num 
 ber might attract attention to the spot, as they 
 might be seen from the ore-trains. 
 
 "Have you told any one of this?" Clay asked. 
 "What have you done so far?" 
 
 "We ve done nothing," said Stuart. "We lost 
 our nerve when we found out how much we knew, 
 and we decided we d better leave it to you." 
 
 "Whatever we do must be done at once," said 
 Clay. "They will come for the arms to-night, 
 most likely, and we must be there first. I agree 
 with you entirely about the place. It is only a 
 
 222
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 question now of our being on time. There are 
 two things to do. The first thing is, to keep them 
 from getting the arms, and the second is, if we 
 are lucky, to secure them for ourselves. If we 
 can pull it off properly, we ought to have those 
 rifles in the mines before midnight. If we are 
 hurried or surprised, we must dump them off the 
 fort into the sea." Clay laughed and looked about 
 him at the men. "We are only following out 
 General Bolivar s saying When you want arms 
 take them from the enemy. Now, there are three 
 places we must cover. This house, first of all," 
 he went on, inclining his head quickly toward the 
 two sisters, "then the city, and the mines. Stuart s 
 place, of course, is at the Palace. King must take 
 care of this house and those in it, and MacWil- 
 liams and Langham and I must look after the 
 arms. We must organize two parties, and they 
 had better approach the fort from here and from 
 the mines at the same time. I will need you to 
 do some telegraphing for me, Mac; and, King, 
 I must ask you for some more men from the 
 yacht. How many have you?" 
 
 King answered that there were fifteen men still 
 on board, ten of whom would be of service. He 
 added that they were all well equipped for fight 
 ing. 
 
 "I believe King s a pirate in business hours," 
 223
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 Clay said, smiling. "All right, that s good. Now 
 go tell ten of them to meet me at the round-house 
 in half an hour. I will get MacWilliams to tele 
 graph Kirkland to run an engine and flat cars to 
 within a half mile of the fort on the north, and 
 we will come up on it with the sailors and Ted, 
 here, from the south. You must run the engine 
 yourself, MacWilliams, and perhaps it would be 
 better, King, if your men joined us at the foot of 
 the grounds here and not at the round-house. 
 None of the workmen must see our party start. 
 Do you agree with me?" he asked, turning to 
 those in the group about him. "Has anybody 
 any criticism to make?" 
 
 Stuart and King looked at one another ruefully 
 and laughed. "I don t see what good I am doing 
 in town," protested Stuart. "Yes, and I don t see 
 where I come in, either," growled King, in ag 
 grieved tones. "These youngsters can t do it all; 
 besides I ought to have charge of my own men." 
 
 "Mutiny," said Clay, in some perplexity, "rank 
 mutiny. Why, it s only a picnic. There are but 
 three men there. We don t need sixteen white 
 men to frighten oft three Olanchoans." 
 
 "I ll tell you what to do," cried Hope, with 
 the air of having discovered a plan which would 
 be acceptable to every one, "let s all go." 
 
 "Well, I certainly mean to go," said Mr. Lang- 
 224
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 ham, decidedly. "So some one else must stay here. 
 Ted, you will have to look after your sisters." 
 
 The son and heir smiled upon his parent with 
 a look of affectionate wonder, and shook his head 
 at him in fond and pitying disapproval. 
 
 "I ll stay," said King. "I have never seen such 
 ungallant conduct. Ladies," he said, "I will pro 
 tect your lives and property, and we ll invent some 
 thing exciting to do ourselves, even if we have to 
 bombard the Capital." 
 
 The men bade the women good-night, and left 
 them with King and Mr. Langham, who had been 
 persuaded to remain overnight, while Stuart rode 
 off to acquaint Alvarez and General Rojas with 
 what was going on. 
 
 225
 
 XI 
 
 THERE was no chance for Clay to speak to 
 Hope again, though he felt the cruelty of 
 having to leave her with everything between them 
 in this interrupted state. But their friends stood 
 about her, interested and excited over this expedi 
 tion of smuggled arms, unconscious of the great 
 miracle that had come into his life and of his need 
 to speak to and to touch the woman who had 
 wrought it. Clay felt how much more binding 
 than the laws of life are the little social conven 
 tions that must be observed at times, even though 
 the heart is leaping with joy or rucked with sor 
 row. He stood within a few feet of the woman 
 he loved, wanting to cry out at her and to tell her 
 all the wonderful things which he had learned 
 were true for the first time that night, but he was 
 forced instead to keep his eyes away from her face 
 and to laugh and answer questions, and at the last 
 to go away content with having held her hand for 
 an instant, and to have heard her say "good- 
 luck." 
 
 MacWilliams called Kirkland to the office at 
 226
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 the other end of the Company s wire, and ex 
 plained the situation to him. He was instructed 
 to run an engine and freight-cars to a point a 
 quarter of a mile north of the fort, and to wait 
 there until he heard a locomotive whistle or pistol 
 shots, when he was to run on to the fort as quickly 
 and as noiselessly as possible. He was also di 
 rected to bring with him as many of the American 
 workmen as he could trust to keep silent concern 
 ing the events of the evening. At ten o clock Mac- 
 Williams had the steam up in a locomotive, and 
 with his only passenger-car in the rear, ran it out 
 of the yard and stopped the train at the point near 
 est the cars where ten of the Vesta s crew were 
 waiting. The sailors had no idea as to where they 
 were going, or what they were to do, but the fact 
 that they had all been given arms filled them with 
 satisfaction, and they huddled together at the bot 
 tom of the car smoking and whispering, and radi 
 ant with excitement and satisfaction. 
 
 The train progressed cautiously until It was 
 within a half mile below the fort, when Clay 
 stopped it, and, leaving two men on guard, stepped 
 off the remaining distance on the ties, his little 
 band following noiselessly behind him like a pro 
 cession of ghosts in the moonlight. They halted 
 and listened from time to time as they drew near 
 the ruins, but there was no sound except the beat- 
 
 227
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 ing of the waves on the rocks and the rustling of 
 the sea-breeze through the vines and creepers about 
 them. 
 
 Clay motioned to the men to sit down, and, 
 beckoning to MacWilliams, directed him to go 
 on ahead and reconnoitre. 
 
 "If you fire we will come up," he said. "Get 
 back here as soon as you can." 
 
 "Aren t you going to make sure first that Kirk- 
 land is on the other side of the fort?" MacWil 
 liams whispered. 
 
 Clay replied that he was certain Kirkland had 
 already arrived. "He had a shorter run than 
 ours, and he wired you he was ready to start 
 when we were, didn t he?" MacWilliams nodded. 
 
 "Well, then, he is there. I can count on Kirk." 
 
 MacWilliams pulled at his heavy boots and hid 
 them in the bushes, with his helmet over them to 
 mark the spot. "I feel as though I was going to 
 rob a bank," he chuckled, as he waved his hand 
 and crept off into the underbrush. 
 
 For the first few moments the men who were 
 left behind sat silent, but as the minutes wore on, 
 and MacWilliams made no sign, they grew rest 
 less, and shifted their positions, and began to whis 
 per together, until Clay shook his head at them, 
 and there was silence again until one of them, in 
 trying not to cough, almost strangled, and the 
 
 228
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 others tittered and those nearest pummelled him 
 on the back. 
 
 Clay pulled out his revolver, and after spinning 
 the cylinder under his finger-nail, put it back in its 
 holder again, and the men, taking this as an en 
 couraging promise of immediate action, began to 
 examine their weapons again for the twentieth 
 time, and there was a chorus of short, muffled 
 clicks as triggers were drawn back and cautiously 
 lowered and levers shot into place and caught 
 again. 
 
 One of the men farthest down the track raised 
 his arm, and all turned and half rose as they saw 
 MacWilliams coming toward them on a run, leap 
 ing noiselessly in his stocking feet from tie to tie. 
 He dropped on his knees between Clay and Lang- 
 ham. 
 
 "The guns are there all right," he whispered, 
 panting, "and there are only three men guarding 
 them. They are all sitting on the beach smoking. 
 I hustled around the fort and came across the 
 whole outfit in the second gallery. It looks like 
 a row of coffins, ten coffins and about twenty little 
 boxes and kegs. I m sure that means they are 
 coming for them to-night. They ve not tried to 
 hide them nor to cover them up. All we ve got 
 to do is to walk down on the guards and tell them 
 to throw up their hands. It s too easy." 
 
 229
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 Clay jumped to his feet. "Come on," he said. 
 
 "Wait till I get my boots on first," begged 
 MacWilliams. "I wouldn t go over those cinders 
 again in my bare feet for all the buried treasure 
 in the Spanish Main. You can make all the noise 
 you want; the waves will drown it." 
 
 With MacWilliams to show them the way, the 
 men scrambled up the outer wall of the fort and 
 crossed the moss-covered ramparts at the run. 
 Below them, on the sandy beach, were three men 
 sitting around a driftwood fire that had sunk to a 
 few hot ashes. Clay nodded to MacWilliams. 
 "You and Ted can have them," he said. "Go 
 with him, Langham." 
 
 The sailors levelled their rifles at the three lone 
 ly figures on the beach as the two boys slipped 
 down the wall and fell on their hands and feet 
 in the sand below, and then crawled up to within 
 a few feet of where the men were sitting. 
 
 As MacWilliams raised his revolver one of the 
 three, who was cooking something over the fire, 
 raised his head and with a yell of warning flung 
 himself toward his rifle. 
 
 "Up with your hands!" MacWilliams shouted 
 in Spanish, and Langham, running in, seized the 
 nearest sentry by the neck and shoved his face 
 down between his knees into the sand. 
 
 There was a great rattle of falling stones and 
 230
 
 Langnam shoved his face down between his knees into the sand.
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 of breaking vines as the sailors tumbled down the 
 side of the fort, and in a half minute s time the 
 three sentries were looking with angry, frightened 
 eyes at the circle of armed men around them. 
 
 "Now gag them," said Clay. "Does anybody 
 here know how to gag a man?" he asked. "I 
 don t." 
 
 "Better make him tell what he knows first," 
 suggested Langham. 
 
 But the Spaniards were too terrified at what 
 they had done, or at what they had failed to do, 
 to further commit themselves. 
 
 "Tie us and gag us," one of them begged. "Let 
 them find us so. It is the kindest thing you can 
 do for us." 
 
 "Thank you, sir," said Clay. "That is what 
 I wanted to know. They are coming to-night, 
 then. We must hurry." 
 
 The three sentries were bound and hidden at 
 the base of the wall, with a sailor to watch them. 
 He was a young man with a high sense of the 
 importance of his duties, and he enlivened the 
 prisoners by poking them in the ribs whenever 
 they moved. 
 
 Clay deemed it impossible to signal Kirkland 
 as they had arranged to do, as they could not 
 know now how near those who were coming for 
 the arms might be. So MacWilliams was sent 
 
 231
 
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 back for his engine, and a few minutes later they 
 heard it rumble heavily past the fort on its way 
 to bring up Kirkland and the flat cars. Clay ex 
 plored the lower chambers of the fort and found 
 the boxes as MacWilliams had described them. 
 Ten men, with some effort, could lift and carry 
 the larger coffin-shaped boxes, and Clay guessed 
 that, granting their contents to be rifles, there must 
 be a hundred pieces in each box, and that there 
 were a thousand rifles in all. 
 
 They had moved half of the boxes to the side 
 of the track when the train of flat cars and the 
 two engines came crawling and twisting toward 
 them, between the walls of the jungle, like a great 
 serpent, with no light about it but the glow from 
 the hot ashes as they fell between the rails. 
 Thirty men, equally divided between Irish and 
 negroes, fell off the flat cars before the wheels 
 had ceased to revolve, and, without a word of 
 direction, began loading the heavy boxes on the 
 train and passing the kegs of cartridges from hand 
 to hand and shoulder to shoulder. The sailors 
 spread out up the road that led to the Capital to 
 give warning in case the enemy approached, but 
 they were recalled before they had reason to give 
 an alarm, and in a half hour Burke s entire ship 
 ment of arms was on the ore-cars, the men who 
 were to have guarded them were prisoners in the 
 
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 cab of the engine, and both trains were rushing 
 at full speed toward the mines. On arriving there 
 Kirkland s train was switched to the siding that 
 led to the magazine in which was stored the rack- 
 arock and dynamite used in the blasting. By mid 
 night all of the boxes were safely under lock in 
 the zinc building, and the number of the men who 
 always guarded the place for fear of fire or acci 
 dent was doubled, while a reserve, composed of 
 Kirkland s thirty picked men, were hidden in the 
 surrounding houses and engine-sheds. 
 
 Before Clay left he had one of the boxes broken 
 open, and found that it held a hundred Mann- 
 licher rifles. 
 
 "Good!" he said. "I d give a thousand dollars 
 in gold if I could bring Mendoza out here and 
 show him his own men armed with his own Mann- 
 lichers and dying for a shot at him. How old 
 Burke will enjoy this when he hears of it!" 
 
 The party from the Palms returned to their 
 engine after many promises of reward to the men 
 for their work "over-time," and were soon flying 
 back with their hearts as light as the smoke above 
 them. 
 
 MacWilliams slackened speed as they neared 
 the fort, and moved up cautiously on the scene of 
 their recent victory, but a warning cry from Clay 
 made him bring his engine to a sharp stop. Many 
 
 233
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 lights were flashing over the ruins and they could 
 see in their reflection the figures of men running 
 over the same walls on which the lizards had 
 basked in undisturbed peace for years. 
 
 "They look like a swarm of hornets after some 
 one has chucked a stone through their nest," 
 laughed MacWilliams. "What shall we do 
 now? Go back, or wait here, or run the block 
 ade?" 
 
 "Oh, ride them out," said Langham; "the fam 
 ily s anxious, and I want to tell them what s hap 
 pened. Go ahead." 
 
 Clay turned to the sailors in the car behind 
 them. "Lie down, men," he said. "And don t 
 any of you fire unless I tell you to. Let them do 
 all the shooting. This isn t our fight yet, and, 
 besides, they can t hit a locomotive standing still, 
 certainly not when it s going at full speed." 
 
 "Suppose they ve torn the track up?" said Mac- 
 Williams, grinning. "We d look sort of silly fly 
 ing through the air." 
 
 "Oh, they ve not sense enough to think of that," 
 said Clay. "Besides, they don t know it was we 
 who took their arms away, yet." 
 
 MacWilliams opened the throttle gently, and 
 the train moved slowly forward, gaining speed at 
 each revolution of the wheels. 
 
 As the noise of its approach beat louder and 
 234
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 louder on the air, a yell of disappointed rage and 
 execration rose into the night from the fort, and 
 a mass of soldiers swarmed upon the track, leap 
 ing up and down and shaking the rifles in their 
 hands. 
 
 "That sounds a little as though they thought 
 we had something to do with it," said MacWil- 
 liams, grimly. "If they don t look out some one 
 will get hurt." 
 
 There was a flash of fire from where the mass 
 of men stood, followed by a dozen more flashes, 
 and the bullets rattled on the smokestack and upon 
 the boiler of the engine. 
 
 "Low bridge," cried MacWilliams, with a fierce 
 chuckle. "Now, watch her!" 
 
 He threw open the throttle as far as it would 
 go, and the engine answered to his touch like a 
 race-horse to the whip. It seemed to spring from 
 the track into the air. It quivered and shook like 
 a live thing, and as it shot in between the soldiers 
 they fell back on either side, and MacWilliams 
 leaned far out of his cab-window shaking his fist 
 at them. 
 
 "You got left, didn t you ?" he shouted. "Thank 
 you for the Mannlichers." 
 
 As the locomotive rushed out of the jungle, and 
 passed the point on the road nearest to the Palms, 
 MacWilliams loosened three long triumphant
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 shrieks from his whistle and the sailors stood up 
 and cheered. 
 
 "Let them shout," cried Clay. "Everybody 
 will have to know now. It s begun at last," he 
 said, with a laugh of relief. 
 
 "And we took the first trick," said MacWil- 
 liams, as he ran his engine slowly into the rail 
 road yard. 
 
 The whistles of the engine and the shouts of 
 the sailors had carried far through the silence of 
 the night, and as the men came hurrying across 
 the lawn to the Palms, they saw all of those who 
 had been left behind grouped on the veranda 
 awaiting them. 
 
 "Do the conquering heroes come?" shouted 
 King. 
 
 "They do," young Langham cried, joyously, 
 "We ve got all their arms, and they shot at us. 
 We ve been under fire!" 
 
 "Are any of you hurt?" asked Miss Langham, 
 anxiously, as she and the others hurried down the 
 steps to welcome them, while those of the Vesta s 
 crew who had been left behind looked at their 
 comrades with envy. 
 
 "We have been so frightened and anxious about 
 you," said Miss Langham. 
 
 Hope held out her hand to Clay and greeted 
 him with a quiet, happy smile, that was in con- 
 
 236
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 trast to the excitement and confusion that reigned 
 about them. 
 
 "I knew you would come back safely," she said. 
 And the pressure of her hand seemed to add 
 "to me." 
 
 237
 
 XII 
 
 THE day of the review rose clear and warm, 
 tempered by a light breeze from the sea. 
 As it was a fete day, the harbor wore an air of 
 unwonted inactivity; no lighters passed heavily 
 from the levees to the merchantmen at anchor, 
 and the warehouses along the wharves were closed 
 and deserted. A thin line of smoke from the 
 funnels of the Vesta showed that her fires were 
 burning, and the fact that she rode on a single 
 anchor chain seemed to promise that at any mo 
 ment she might slip away to sea. 
 
 As Clay was finishing his coffee two notes were 
 brought to him from messengers who had ridden 
 out that morning, and who sat in their saddles 
 looking at the armed force around the office with 
 amused intelligence. 
 
 One note was from Mendoza, and said he had 
 decided not to call out the regiment at the mines, 
 as he feared their long absence from drill would 
 make them compare unfavorably with their com 
 rades, and do him more harm than credit. "He 
 is afraid of them since last night," was Clay s 
 comment, as he passed the note on to MacWil- 
 
 238
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 liams. "He s quite right, they might do him 
 harm." 
 
 The second note was from Stuart. He said the 
 city was already wide awake and restless, but 
 whether this was due to the fact that it was a 
 fete day, or to some other cause which would dis 
 close itself later, he could not tell. Madame Al 
 varez, the afternoon before, while riding in the 
 Alameda, had been insulted by a group of men 
 around a cafe, who had risen and shouted after 
 her, one of them throwing a wine-glass into her 
 lap as she rode past. His troopers had charged 
 the sidewalk and carried off six of the men to the 
 carcel. He and Rojas had urged the President 
 to make every preparation for immediate flight, 
 to have the horses put to his travelling carriage, 
 and had warned him when at the review to take 
 up his position at the point nearest to his own 
 body-guard, and as far as possible from the troops 
 led by Mendoza. Stuart added that he had abso 
 lute confidence in the former. The policeman who 
 had attempted to carry Burke s note to Mendoza 
 had confessed that he was the only traitor in the 
 camp, and that he had tried to work on his com 
 rades without success. Stuart begged Clay to join 
 him as quickly as possible. Clay went up the hill 
 to the Palms, and after consulting with Mr. Lang- 
 ham, dictated an order to Kirkland, instructing 
 
 239
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 him to call the men together and to point out to 
 them how much better their condition had been 
 since they had entered the mines, and to promise 
 them an increase of wages if they remained faith 
 ful to Mr. Langham s interests, and a small pen 
 sion to any one who might be injured "from any 
 cause whatsoever" while serving him. 
 
 "Tell them, if they are loyal, they can live in 
 their shacks rent free hereafter," wrote Clay. 
 "They are always asking for that. It s a cheap 
 generosity," he added aloud to Mr. Langham, 
 "because we ve never been able to collect rent from 
 any of them yet." 
 
 At noon young Langham ordered the best three 
 horses in the stables to be brought to the door 
 of the Palms for Clay, MacWilliams, and him 
 self. Clay s last words to King were to have the 
 yacht in readiness to put to sea when he telephoned 
 him to do so, and he advised the \vomen to have 
 their dresses and more valuable possessions packed 
 ready to be taken on board. 
 
 "Don t you think I might see the review if T 
 went on horseback?" Hope asked. "I could get 
 sway then, if there should be any trouble * 
 
 Clay answered with a look of such alarm and 
 surprise that Hope laughed. 
 
 "See the review! I should say not," he ex 
 claimed. "I don t even want Ted to be there." 
 
 240
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "Oh, that s always the way," said Hope, "I 
 miss everything. I think I ll come, however, any 
 how. The servants are all going, and I ll go 
 with them disguised in a turban." 
 
 As the men neared Valencia, Clay turned in 
 his saddle, and asked Langham if he thought his 
 sister would really venture into the town. 
 
 "She d better not let me catch her, if she does," 
 the fond brother replied. 
 
 The reviewing party left the Government Pal 
 ace for the Alameda at three o clock, President 
 Alvarez riding on horseback in advance, and Ma 
 dame Alvarez sitting in the State carriage with one 
 of her attendants, and with Stuart s troopers gath 
 ered so closely about her that the men s boots 
 scraped against the wheels, and their numbers hid 
 her almost entirely from sight. 
 
 The great square in which the evolutions were 
 to take place was lined on its four sides by the 
 carriages of the wealthy Olanchoans. except at the 
 two gates, where there was a wide space left open 
 to admit the soldiers. The branches of the trees 
 on the edges of the bare parade ground were black 
 with men and boys, and the balconies and roofs 
 of the houses that faced it were gay with stream 
 ers and flags, and alive with women wrapped for 
 the occasion in their colored shawls. Seated on 
 the grass between the carriages, or surging up and 
 
 241
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 down behind them, were thousands of people, each 
 hurrying to gain a better place of vantage, or 
 striving to hold the one he had, and forming a 
 restless, turbulent audience in which all individual 
 cries were lost in a great murmur of laughter, and 
 calls, and cheers. The mass knit together, and 
 pressed forward as the President s band swung 
 jauntily into the square and halted in one corner, 
 and a shout of expectancy went up from the trees 
 and housetops as the President s body-guard en 
 tered at the lower gate, and the broken place in 
 its ranks showed that it was escorting the State 
 carriage. The troopers fell back on two sides, 
 and the carriage, with the President riding at its 
 head, passed on, and took up a position in front 
 of the other carriages, and close to one of the 
 sides of the hollow square. At Stuart s orders 
 Clay, MacWilliams, and Langham had pushed 
 their horses into the rear rank of cavalry, and 
 remained wedged between the troopers within 
 twenty feet of where Madame Alvarez was sit 
 ting. She was very white, and the powder on her 
 face gave her an added and unnatural pallor. As 
 the people cheered her husband and herself she 
 raised her head slightly and seemed to be trying 
 to catch any sound of dissent in their greeting, or 
 some possible undercurrent of disfavor, but the 
 welcome appeared to be both genuine and hearty, 
 
 242
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 until a second shout smothered it completely as 
 the figure of old General Rojas, the Vice-Presi- 
 dent, and the most dearly loved by the common 
 people, came through the gate at the head of his 
 regiment. There was such greeting for him that 
 the welcome to the President seemed mean in com 
 parison, and it was with an embarrassment which 
 both felt that the two men drew near together, 
 and each leaned from his saddle to grasp the 
 other s hand. Madame Alvarez sank back rigidly 
 on her cushions, and her eyes flashed with antici 
 pation and excitement. She drew her mantilla a 
 little closer about her shoulders, with a nervous 
 shudder as though she were cold. Suddenly the 
 look of anxiety in her eyes changed to one of 
 annoyance, and she beckoned Clay imperiously to 
 the side of the carriage. 
 
 "Look," she said, pointing across the square. 
 "If I am not mistaken that is Miss Langham, 
 Miss Hope. The one on the black horse it must 
 be she, for none of the native ladies ride. It is 
 not safe for her to be here alone. Go," she com 
 manded, "bring her here to me. Put her next to 
 the carriage, or perhaps she will be safer with you 
 among the troopers." 
 
 Clay had recognized Hope before Madame 
 Alvarez had finished speaking, and dashed oft at 
 a gallop, skirting the line of carriages. Hope had 
 
 243
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 stopped her horse beside a victoria, and was talk 
 ing to the native women who occupied it, and who 
 were scandalized at her appearance in a public 
 place witb no one but a groom to attend her. 
 
 "Why, it s the same thing as a polo match," 
 protested Hope, as Clay pulled up angrily beside 
 the victoria. "I always ride over to polo alone 
 at Newport, at least with James," she added, nod 
 ding her head toward the servant. 
 
 The man approached Clay and touched his hat 
 apologetically, "Miss Hope would come, sir," he 
 said, "and I thought I d better be with her than 
 to go off and tell Mr. Langham, sir. I knew she 
 wouldn t wait for me." 
 
 "I asked you not to come," Clay said to Hope, 
 in a low voice. 
 
 "I wanted to know the worst at once," she an 
 swered. "I was anxious about Ted and you." 
 
 "Well, it can t be helped now," he said. "Come, 
 we must hurry, here is our friend, the enemy." 
 He bowed to their acquaintances in the victoria 
 and they trotted briskly off to the side of the 
 President s carriage, just as a yell arose from the 
 crowd that made all the other shouts which had 
 preceded it sound like the cheers of children at 
 recess. 
 
 "It reminds me of a football match," whispered 
 young Langham, excitedly, "when the teams run 
 
 244
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 on the field. Look at Alvarez and Rojas watch 
 ing Mendoza." 
 
 Mendoza advanced at the front of his three 
 troops of cavalry, looking neither to the left nor 
 right, and by no sign acknowledging the fierce up 
 roarious greeting of the people. Close behind him 
 came his chosen band of cowboys and ruffians. 
 They were the best equipped and least disciplined 
 soldiers in the army, and were, to the great relief 
 of the people, seldom seen in the city, but were 
 kept moving in the mountain passes and along the 
 coast line, on the lookout for smugglers with whom 
 they were on the most friendly terms. They were 
 a picturesque body of blackguards, in their high- 
 topped boots and silver-tipped sombreros and 
 heavy, gaudy saddles, but the shout that had gone 
 up at their advance was due as much to the fear 
 they inspired as to any great love for them or 
 their chief. 
 
 "Now all the chessmen are on the board, and 
 the game can begin," said Clay. "It s like the 
 scene in the play, where each man has his sword 
 at another man s throat and no one dares make 
 the first move." He smiled as he noted, with the 
 eye of one who had seen Continental troops in 
 action, the shuffling steps and slovenly carriage 
 of the half-grown soldiers that followed Mendo- 
 za s cavalry at a quick step. Stuart s picked men, 
 
 245
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 over whom he had spent many hot and weary 
 hours, looked like a troop of Life Guardsmen in 
 comparison. Clay noted their superiority, but he 
 also saw that in numbers they were most woefully 
 at a disadvantage. 
 
 It was a brilliant scene for so modest a capital. 
 The sun flashed on the trappings of the soldiers, 
 on the lacquer and polished metal work of the 
 carriages; and the Parisian gowns of their occu 
 pants and the fluttering flags and banners filled the 
 air with color and movement, while back of all, 
 framing the parade ground with a band of black, 
 was the restless mob of people applauding the evo" 
 lutions, and cheering for their favorites, Alvarez, 
 Mendoza, and Rojas, moved by an excitement that 
 was in disturbing contrast to the easy good-nature 
 of their usual manner. 
 
 The marching and countermarching of the 
 troops had continued with spirit for some time, 
 and there was a halt in the evolutions which left 
 the field vacant, except for the presence of Men- 
 doza s cavalrymen, who were moving at a walk 
 along one side of the quadrangle. Alvarez and 
 Vice-President Rojas, with Stuart, as an adjutant 
 at their side, were sitting their horses within some 
 fifty yards of the State carriage and the body 
 guard. Alvarez made a conspicuous contrast in 
 his black coat and high hat to the brilliant greens 
 
 246
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 and reds of his generals uniforms, but he sat his 
 saddle as well as either of the others, and his 
 white hair, white imperial and mustache, and the 
 dignity of his bearing distinguished him above 
 them both. Little Stuart, sitting at his side, with 
 his blue eyes glaring from under his white helmet 
 and his face burned to almost as red a tint as 
 his curly hair, looked like a fierce little bull-dog 
 in comparison. None of the three men spoke as 
 they sat motionless and quite alone waiting for the 
 next movement of the troops. 
 
 It proved to be one of moment. Even before 
 Mendoza had ridden toward them with his sword 
 at salute, Clay gave an exclamation of enlighten 
 ment and concern. He saw that the men who 
 were believed to be devoted to Rojas, had been 
 halted and left standing at the farthest corner of 
 the plaza, nearly two hundred yards from where 
 the President had taken his place, that Mendoza s 
 infantry surrounded them on every side, and that 
 Mendoza s cowboys, who had been walking their 
 horses, had wheeled and were coming up with an 
 increasing momentum, a flying mass of horses and 
 men directed straight at the President himself. 
 
 Mendoza galloped up to Alvarez with his sword 
 still in salute. His eyes were burning with excite 
 ment and with the light of success. No one but 
 Stuart and Rojas heard his words; to the specta- 
 
 247
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 tors and to the army he appeared as though he 
 was, in his capacity of Commander-in-Chief, de 
 livering some brief report, or asking for instruc 
 tions. 
 
 "Dr. Alvarez," he said, "as the head of the 
 army I arrest you for high treason; you have plot 
 ted to place yourself in office without popular elec 
 tion. You are also accused of large thefts of 
 public funds. I must ask you to ride with me to 
 the military prison. General Rojas, I regret that 
 as an accomplice of the President s, you must come 
 with us also. I will explain my action to the peo 
 ple when you are safe in prison, and I will pro 
 claim martial law. If your troops attempt to in 
 terfere, my men have orders to fire on them and 
 you." 
 
 Stuart did not wait for his sentence. He had 
 heard the heavy beat of the cavalry coming up 
 on them at a trot. He saw the ranks open and 
 two men catch at each bridle rein of both Alvarez 
 and Rojas and drag them on with them, buried in 
 the crush of horses about them, and swept forward 
 by the weight and impetus of the moving mass 
 behind. Stuart dashed off to the State carriage 
 and seized the nearest of the horses by the bridle. 
 "To the Palace!" he shouted to his men. "Shoot 
 any one who tries to stop you. Forward, at a 
 gallop," he commanded. 
 
 248
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 The populace had not discovered what had oc 
 curred until it was finished. The coup d etat had 
 been long considered and the manner in which it 
 was to be carried out carefully planned. The cav 
 alry had swept across the parade ground and up 
 the street before the people saw that they carried 
 Rojas and Alvarez with them. The regiment 
 commanded by Rojas found itself hemmed in be 
 fore and behind by Mendoza s two regiments. 
 They were greatly outnumbered, but they fired a 
 scattering shot, and following their captured lead 
 er, broke through the line around them and pur 
 sued the cavalry toward the military prison. 
 
 It was impossible to tell in the uproar which 
 followed how many or how few had been parties 
 to the plot. The mob, shrieking and shouting and 
 leaping in the air, swarmed across the parade 
 ground, and from a dozen different points men 
 rose above the heads of the people and harangued 
 them in violent speeches. And while some of the 
 soldiers and the citizens gathered anxiously about 
 these orators, others ran through the city calling 
 for the rescue of the President, for an attack on 
 the palace, and shrieking "Long live the Govern 
 ment!" and "Long live the Revolution!" The 
 State carriage raced through the narrow streets 
 with its body-guard galloping around it, sweeping 
 down in its rush stray pedestrians, and scattering 
 
 249
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 the chairs and tables in front of the cafes. As it 
 dashed up the long avenue of the palace, Stuart 
 called his men back and ordered them to shut and 
 barricade the great iron gates and to guard them 
 against the coming of the mob, while MacWil- 
 liams and young Langham pulled open the car 
 riage door and assisted the President s wife and 
 her terrified companion to alight. Madame Al 
 varez was trembling with excitement as she leaned 
 on Langham s arm, but she showed no signs of 
 fear in her face or in her manner. 
 
 "Mr. Clay has gone to bring your travelling 
 carriage to the rear door," Langham said. "Stu 
 art tells us it is harnessed and ready. You will 
 hurry, please, and get whatever you need to 
 carry with you. We will see you safely to the 
 coast." 
 
 As they entered the hall, and were ascending 
 the great marble stairway, Hope and her groom, 
 who had followed in the rear of the cavalry, came 
 running to meet them. "I got in by the back 
 way," Hope explained. "The streets there are 
 all deserted. How can I help you?" she asked, 
 eagerly. 
 
 "By leaving me," cried the older woman. "Good 
 God, child, have I not enough to answer for with 
 out dragging you into this? Go home at once 
 through the botanical garden, and then by way 
 
 250
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 of the wharves. That part of the city is still 
 empty." 
 
 "Where are your servants; why are they not 
 here ?" Hope demanded without heeding her. The 
 palace was strangely empty; no footsteps came 
 running to greet them, no doors opened or shut 
 as they hurried to Madame Alvarez s apartments. 
 The servants of the household had fled at the first 
 sound of the uproar in the city, and the dresses 
 and ornaments scattered on the floor told that they 
 had not gone empty-handed. The woman who 
 had accompanied Madame Alvarez to the review 
 sank weeping on the bed, and then, as the shouts 
 grew suddenly louder and more near, ran to hide 
 herself in the upper stories of the house. Hope 
 crossed to the window and saw a great mob of 
 soldiers and citizens sweep around the corner and 
 throw themselves against the iron fence of the pal 
 ace. "You will have to hurry," she said. "Re 
 member, you are risking the lives of those boys 
 by your delay." 
 
 There was a large bed in the room, and Ma 
 dame Alvarez had pulled it forward and was bend 
 ing over a safe that had opened in the wall, and 
 which had been hidden by the head-board of the 
 bed. She held up a bundle of papers in her hand, 
 wrapped in a leather portfolio. "Do you see 
 these?" she cried, "they are drafts for five mill- 
 
 251
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 ions of dollars." She tossed them back Into the 
 safe and swung the door shut. 
 
 "You are a witness. I do not take them," she 
 said. 
 
 "I don t understand," Hope answered, "but 
 hurry. Have you everything you want have you 
 your jewels?" 
 
 "Yes," the woman answered, as she rose to her 
 feet, "they are mine." 
 
 A yell more loud and terrible than any that had 
 gone before rose from the garden below, and there 
 was the sound of iron beating against iron, and 
 cries of rage and execration from a great multi 
 tude. 
 
 "I will not go!" the Spanish woman cried, sud 
 denly. "I will not leave Alvarez to that mob. 
 If they want to kill me, let them kill me." She 
 threw the bag that held her jewels on the bed, 
 and pushing open the window stepped out upon 
 the balcony. She was conspicuous in her black 
 dress against the yellow stucco of the wall, and in 
 an instant the mob saw her and a mad shout of 
 exultation and anger rose from the mass that beat 
 and crushed itself against the high iron railings 
 of the garden. Hope caught the woman by the 
 skirt and dragged her back. "You are mad," she 
 said. "What good can you do your husband here? 
 Save yourself and he will come to you when he 
 
 252
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 can. There is nothing you can do for him now; 
 you cannot give your life for him. You are wast 
 ing it, and you are risking the lives of the men 
 who are waiting for us below. Come, I tell you." 
 
 MacWilliams left Clay waiting beside the dili 
 gence and ran from the stable through the empty 
 house and down the marble stairs to the garden 
 without meeting any one on his way. He saw Stu 
 art helping and directing his men to barricade the 
 gates with iron urns and garden benches and sen 
 try-boxes. Outside the mob were firing at him 
 with their revolvers, and calling him foul names, 
 but Stuart did not seem to hear them. He greeted 
 MacWilliams with a cheerful little laugh. "Well," 
 he asked, "is she ready?" 
 
 "No, but we are. Clay and I ve been waiting 
 there for five minutes. We found Miss Hope s 
 groom and sent him back to the Palms with a 
 message to King. We told him to run the yacht 
 to Los Bocos and lie off shore until we came. 
 He is to take her on down the coast to Truxillo, 
 where our man-of-war is lying, and they will give 
 her shelter as a political refugee." 
 
 "Why doft t you drive her to the Palms at 
 once?" demanded Stuart, anxiously, "and take her 
 on board the yacht there ? It is ten miles to Bocos 
 and the roads are very bad." 
 
 "Clay says we could never get her through the 
 253
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 city," MacWilliams answered. "We should have 
 to fight all the way. But the city to the south is 
 deserted, and by going out by the back roads, we 
 can make Bocos by ten o clock to-night. The 
 yacht should reach there by seven." 
 
 "You are right; go back. I will call off some 
 of my men. The rest must hold this mob back 
 until you start; then I will follow with the others. 
 Where is Miss Hope?" 
 
 "We don t know. Clay is frantic. Her groom 
 says she is somewhere in the palace." 
 
 "Hurry," Stuart commanded. "If Mendoza 
 gets here before Madame Alvarez leaves, it will 
 be too late." 
 
 MacWilliams sprang up the steps of the palace, 
 and Stuart, calling to the men nearest him to fol 
 low, started after him on a run. 
 
 As Stuart entered the palace with his men at 
 his heels, Clay was hurrying from its rear entrance 
 along the upper hall, and Hope and Madame Al 
 varez were leaving the apartments of the latter 
 at its front. They met at the top of the main 
 stairway just as Stuart put his foot on its low r er 
 step. The young Englishman heard the clatter 
 of his men following close behind him and leaped 
 eagerly forward. Half way to the top the noise 
 behind him ceased, and turning his head quickly 
 he looked back over his shoulder and saw that the 
 
 254
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 men had halted at the foot of the stairs and stood 
 huddled together in disorder looking up at him. 
 Stuart glanced over their heads and down the hall 
 way to the garden beyond to see if they were fol 
 lowed, but the mob still fought from the outer 
 side of the barricade. He waved his sword im 
 patiently and started forward again. "Come on!" 
 he shouted. But the men below him did not move. 
 Stuart halted once more and this time turned about 
 and looked down upon them with surprise and 
 anger. There was not one of them he could not 
 have called by name. He knew all their little 
 troubles, their love-affairs, even. They came to 
 him for comfort and advice, and to beg for money. 
 He had regarded them as his children, and he was 
 proud of them as soldiers because they were the 
 work of his hands. 
 
 So, instead of a sharp command, he asked, 
 "What is it?" in surprise, and stared at them won 
 dering. He could not or would not comprehend, 
 even though he saw that those in the front rank 
 were pushing back and those behind were urging 
 them forward. The muzzles of their carbines 
 were directed at every point, and on their faces 
 fear and hate and cowardice were written in vary 
 ing likenesses. 
 
 "What does this mean?" Stuart demanded, 
 sharply. "What are you waiting for?" 
 
 255
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 Clay had just reached the top of the stairs. He 
 saw Madame Alvarez and Hope coming toward 
 him, and at the sight of Hope he gave an ex 
 clamation of relief. 
 
 Then his eyes turned and fell on the tableau 
 below, on Stuart s back, as he stood confronting 
 the men, and on their scowling upturned faces and 
 half-lifted carbines. Clay had lived for a longer 
 time among Spanish-Americans than had the Eng 
 lish subaltern, or else he was the quicker of the 
 two to believe in evil and ingratitude, for he gave 
 a cry of warning, and motioned the women away. 
 
 "Stuart!" he cried. "Come away; for God s 
 sake, what are you doing? Come back!" 
 
 The Englishman started at the sound of his 
 friend s voice, but he did not turn his head. He 
 began to descend the stairs slowly, a step at a time, 
 staring at the mob so fiercely that they shrank 
 back before the look of wounded pride and anger 
 in his eyes. Those in the rear raised and levelled 
 their rifles. Without taking his eyes from theirs, 
 Stuart drew his revolver, and with his sword 
 swinging from its wrist-strap, pointed his weapon 
 at the mass below him. 
 
 "What does this mean?" he demanded. "Is 
 this mutiny?" 
 
 A voice from the rear of the crowd of men 
 shrieked: "Death to the Spanish woman. Death 
 
 256
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 to all traitors. Long live Mendoza," and the 
 others echoed the cry in chorus. 
 
 Clay sprang down the broad stairs calling, 
 "Come to me;" but before he could reach Stuart, 
 a woman s voice rang out, in a long terrible cry 
 of terror, a cry that was neither a prayer nor an 
 imprecation, but which held the agony of both. 
 Stuart started, and looked up to where Madame 
 Alvarez had thrown herself toward him across 
 the broad balustrade of the stairway. She was 
 silent with fear, and her hand clutched at the air, 
 as she beckoned wildly to him. Stuart stared at 
 her with a troubled smile and waved his empty 
 hand to reassure her. The movement was final, 
 for the Tien below, freed from the reproach of his 
 eyes, flung up their carbines and fired, some wildly, 
 without placing their guns at rest, and others stead 
 ily and aiming straight at his heart. 
 
 As the volley rang out and the smoke drifted 
 up the great staircase, the subaltern s hands tossed 
 high above his head, his body sank into itself and 
 toppled backward, and, like a tired child falling 
 to sleep, the defeated soldier of fortune dropped 
 back into the outstretched arms of his friend. 
 
 Clay lifted him upon his knee, and crushed him 
 closer against his breast with one arm, while he 
 tore with his free hand at the stock about the 
 throat and pushed his fingers in between the but- 
 
 257
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 tons of the tunic. They came forth again wet and 
 colored crimson. 
 
 "Stuart!" Clay gasped. "Stuart, speak to me, 
 look at me !" He shook the body in his arms with 
 fierce roughness, peering into the face that rested 
 on his shoulder, as though he could command the 
 eyes back again to light and life. "Don t leave 
 me!" he said. "For God s sake, old man, don t 
 leave me !" 
 
 But the head on his shoulder only sank the 
 closer and the body stiffened in his arms. Clay 
 raised his eyes and saw the soldiers still standing, 
 irresolute and appalled at what they had done, 
 and awe-struck at the sight of the grief before 
 them. 
 
 Clay gave a cry as terrible as the cry of a 
 woman who has seen her child mangled before 
 her eyes, and lowering the body quickly to the 
 steps, he ran at the scattering mass below him. 
 As he came they fled down the corridor, shrieking 
 and calling to their friends to throw open the gates 
 and begging them to admit the mob. When they 
 reached the outer porch they turned, encouraged 
 by the touch of numbers, and halted to fire at the 
 man who still followed them. 
 
 Clay stopped, with a look in his eyes which no 
 one who knew them had ever seen there, and 
 smiled with pleasure in knowing himself a master 
 
 258
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 in what he had to do. And at each report of his 
 revolver one of Stuart s assassins stumbled and 
 pitched heavily forward on his face. Then he 
 turned and walked slowly back up the hall to the 
 stairway like a man moving in his sleep. He 
 neither saw nor heard the bullets that bit spitefully 
 at the walls about him and rattled among the glass 
 pendants of the great chandeliers above his head. 
 When he came to the step on which the body lay 
 he stooped and picked it up gently, and holding 
 it across his breast, strode on up the stairs. Mac- 
 Williams and Langham were coming toward him, 
 and saw the helpless figure in his arms. 
 
 "What is it?" they cried; "is he wounded, is 
 he hurt?" 
 
 "He is dead," Clay answered, passing on with 
 his burden. "Get Hope away." 
 
 Madame Alvarez stood with the girl s arms 
 about her, her eyes closed and her figure trem 
 bling. 
 
 "Let me be!" she moaned. "Don t touch me; 
 let me die. My God, what have I to live for 
 now?" She shook off Hope s supporting arm, and 
 stood before them, all her former courage gone, 
 trembling and shivering in agony. "I do not care 
 what they do to me !" she cried. She tore her lace 
 mantilla from her shoulders and threw it on the 
 floor. "I shall not leave this place. He is dead. 
 
 259
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 Why should I go ? He is dead. They have mur 
 dered him; he is dead." 
 
 "She is fainting," said Hope. Her voice was 
 strained and hard. To her brother she seemed 
 to have grown suddenly much older, and he looked 
 to her to tell him what to do. 
 
 "Take hold of her," she said. "She will fall." 
 The woman sank back into the arms of the men, 
 trembling and moaning feebly. "Now carry her 
 to the carriage," said Hope. "She has fainted; 
 it is better; she does not know what has hap 
 pened." 
 
 Clay, still bearing the body in his arms, pushed 
 open the first door that stood ajar before him with 
 his foot. It opened into the great banqueting hall 
 of the palace, but he could not choose. He had to 
 consider now the safety of the living, whose lives 
 were still in jeopardy. 
 
 The long table in the centre of the hall was laid 
 with places for many people, for it had been pre 
 pared for the President and the President s guests, 
 who were to have joined with him in celebrating 
 the successful conclusion of the review. From out 
 side the light of the sun, which \vas just sinking 
 behind the mountains, shone dimly upon the silver 
 on the board, on the glass and napery, and the 
 massive gilt centre-pieces filled with great clusters 
 of fresh flowers. It looked as though the servants 
 
 260
 
 He strode on up the stairs.
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 had but just left the room. Even the candles had 
 been lit in readiness, and as their flames wavered 
 and smoked in the evening breeze they cast uncer 
 tain shadows on the walls and showed the stern 
 faces of the soldier presidents frowning down on 
 the crowded table from their gilded frames. 
 
 There was a great leather lounge stretching 
 along one side of the hall, and Clay moved toward 
 this quickly and laid his burden down. He was 
 conscious that Hope was still following him. Pic 
 straightened the limbs of the body and folded the 
 arms across the breast and pressed his hand for 
 an instant on the cold hands of his friend, and 
 then whispering something between his lips, turned 
 and walked hurriedly away. 
 
 Hope confronted him in the doorway. She was 
 sobbing silently. "Must we leave him," she plead 
 ed, "must we leave him like this?" 
 
 From the garden there came the sound of ham 
 mers ringing on the iron hinges, and a great crash 
 of noises as the gate fell back from its fastenings, 
 and the mob rushed over the obstacles upon which 
 it had fallen. It seemed as if their yells of exulta 
 tion and anger must reach even the ears of the 
 dead man. 
 
 "They are calling Mendoza," Clay whispered, 
 "he must be with them. Come, we will have to 
 run for our lives now." 
 
 261
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 But before he could guess what Hope was about 
 to do, or could prevent her, she had slipped past 
 him and picked up Stuart s sword that had fallen 
 from his wrist to the floor, and laid it on the 
 soldier s body, and closed his hands upon its hilt. 
 She glanced quickly about her as though looking 
 for something, and then with a sob of relief ran 
 to the table, and sweeping it of an armful of its 
 flowers, stepped swiftly back again to the lounge 
 and heaped them upon it. 
 
 "Come, for God s sake, come!" Clay called to 
 her in a whisper from the door. 
 
 Hope stood for an instant staring at the young 
 Englishman as the candle-light flickered over his 
 white face, and then, dropping on her knees, she 
 pushed back the curly hair from about the boy s 
 forehead and kissed him. Then, without turning 
 to look again, she placed her hand in Clay s and 
 he ran with her, dragging her behind him down 
 the length of the hall, just as the mob entered it 
 on the floor below them and filled the palace with 
 their shouts of triumph. 
 
 As the sun sank lower its light fell more dimly 
 on the lonely figure in the vast dining-hall, and as 
 the gloom deepened there, the candles burned with 
 greater brilliancy, and the faces of the portraits 
 shone more clearly. 
 
 They seemed to be staring down less sternly now 
 262
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 upon the white mortal face of the brother-in-arms 
 who had just joined them. 
 
 One who had known him among his own people 
 would have seen in the attitude and in the profile 
 of the English soldier a likeness to his ancestors 
 of the Crusades who lay carved in stone in the 
 village church, with their faces turned to the sky, 
 their faithful hounds waiting at their feet, and 
 their hands pressed upward in prayer. 
 
 And when, a moment later, the half-crazed mob 
 of men and boys swept into the great room, with 
 Mendoza at their head, something of the pathos 
 of the young Englishman s death in his foreign 
 place of exile must have touched them, for they 
 stopped appalled and startled, and pressed back 
 upon their fellows, with eager whispers. The 
 Spanish-American General strode boldly forward, 
 but his eyes lowered before the calm, white face, 
 and either because the lighted candles and the flow 
 ers awoke in him some memory of the great 
 Church that had nursed him, or because the jagged 
 holes in the soldier s tunic appealed to what was 
 bravest in him, he crossed himself quickly, and 
 then raising his hands slowly to his visor, lifted 
 his hat and pointed with it to the door. And the 
 mob, without once looking back at the rich treas 
 ure of silver on the table, pushed out before him, 
 stepping softly, as though they had intruded on a 
 shrine. 
 
 263
 
 XIII 
 
 THE President s travelling carriage was a 
 double-seated diligence covered with heavy 
 hoods and with places on the box for two men. 
 Only one of the coachmen, the same man who 
 had driven the State carriage from the review, 
 had remained at the stables. As he knew the 
 roads to Los Bocos, Clay ordered him up to the 
 driver s seat, and MacWilliams climbed into the 
 place beside him after first storing three rifles un 
 der the lap-robe. 
 
 Hope pulled open the leather curtains of the 
 carnage and found Madame Alvarez where the 
 men had laid her upon the cushions, weak and 
 hysterical. The girl crept in beside her, and lift 
 ing her in her arms, rested the older woman s 
 head against her shoulder, and soothed and com 
 forted her with tenderness and sympathy. 
 
 Clay stopped with his foot in the stirrup and 
 looked up anxiously at Langham who was already 
 in the saddle. 
 
 "Is there no possible way of getting Hope out 
 of this and back to the Palms?" he asked. 
 
 264
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "No, it s too late. This is the only way now." 
 
 Hope opened the leather curtains and looking 
 out shook her head impatiently at Clay. "I 
 wouldn t go now if there were another way," she 
 said. "I couldn t leave her like this." 
 
 "You re delaying the game, Clay," cried Lang- 
 ham, warningly, as he stuck his spurs into his 
 pony s side. 
 
 The people in the diligence lurched forward as 
 the horses felt the lash of the whip and strained 
 against the harness, and then plunged ahead at a 
 gallop on their long race to the sea. As they sped 
 through the gardens, the stables and the trees hid 
 them from the sight of those in the palace, and the 
 turf, upon which the driver had turned the horses 
 for greater safety, deadened the sound of their 
 flight. 
 
 They found the gates of the botanical gardens 
 already opened, and Clay, in the street outside, 
 beckoning them on. Without waiting for the 
 others the two outriders galloped ahead to the 
 first cross street, looked up and down its length, 
 and then, in evident concern at what they saw in 
 the distance, motioned the driver to greater speed, 
 and crossing the street signalled him to follow 
 them. At the next corner Clay flung himself off 
 his pony, and throwing the bridle to Langham, 
 ran ahead into the cross street on foot, and after 
 
 265
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 a quick glance pointed down its length away from 
 the heart of the city to the mountains. 
 
 The driver turned as Clay directed him, and 
 when the man found that his face was fairly set 
 toward the goal he lashed his horses recklessly 
 through the narrow street, so that the murmur of 
 the mob behind them grew perceptibly fainter at 
 each leap forward. 
 
 The noise of the galloping hoofs brought wom 
 en and children to the barred windows of the 
 houses, but no men stepped into the road to stop 
 their progress, and those few they met running 
 in the direction of the palace hastened to get out 
 of their way, and stood with their backs pressed 
 against the walls of the narrow thoroughfare look 
 ing after them with wonder. 
 
 Even those who suspected their errand were 
 helpless to detain them, for sooner than they could 
 raise the hue and cry or formulate a plan of action, 
 the carriage had passed and was disappearing in 
 the distance, rocking from wheel to wheel like a 
 ship in a gale. Two men who were so bold as 
 to start to follow, stopped abruptly when they 
 saw the outriders draw rein and turn in their sad 
 dles as though to await their corning. 
 
 Clay s mind was torn with doubts, and his 
 nerves were drawn taut like the strings of a 
 violin. Personal danger exhilarated him, but this 
 
 266
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 chance of harm to others who were helpless, ex 
 cept for him, depressed his spirit with anxiety. 
 He experienced in his own mind all the nervous 
 fears of a thief who sees an officer in every pass 
 ing citizen, and at one moment he warned the 
 driver to move more circumspectly, and so avert 
 suspicion, and the next urged him into more des 
 perate bursts of speed. In his fancy every cross 
 street threatened an ambush, and as he cantered 
 now before and now behind the carriage, he 
 wished that he was a multitude of men who could 
 encompass it entirely and hide it. 
 
 But the solid streets soon gave way to open 
 places, and low mud cabins, where the horses 
 hoofs beat on a sun-baked road, and where the 
 inhabitants sat lazily before the door in the fading 
 light, with no knowledge of the changes that the 
 day had wrought in the city, and with only a 
 moment s curious interest in the hooded carriage, 
 and the grim, white-faced foreigners who guard 
 ed it. 
 
 Clay turned his pony into a trot at Langham s 
 side. His face was pale and drawn. 
 
 As the danger of immediate pursuit and cap 
 ture grew less, the carriage had slackened its pace, 
 and for some minutes the outriders galloped on 
 together side by side in silence. But the same 
 thought was in the mind of each, and when Lang-
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 ham spoke it was as though he were continuing 
 where he had but just been interrupted. 
 
 He laid his hand gently on Clay s arm. He 
 did not turn his face toward him, and his eyes 
 were still peering into the shadows before them. 
 "Tell me?" he asked. 
 
 "He was coming up the stairs," Clay answered. 
 He spoke in so low a voice that Langham had to 
 lean from his saddle to hear him. "They were 
 close behind; but when they saw her they stopped 
 and refused to go farther. I called to him to 
 come away, but he would not understand. They 
 killed him before he really understood what they 
 meant to do. He was dead almost before I 
 reached him. He died in my arms." There was 
 a long pause. "I wonder if he knows that?" 
 Clay said. 
 
 Langham sat erect in the saddle again and drew 
 a short breath. "I wish he could have known how 
 he helped me," he whispered, "how much just 
 knowing him helped me." 
 
 Clay bowed his head to the boy as though he 
 were thanking him. "His was the gentlest soul 
 I ever knew," he said. 
 
 "That s what I wanted to say," Langham an 
 swered. "We will let that be his epitaph," and 
 touching his spur to his horse he galloped on ahead 
 and left Clay riding alone. 
 
 368
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 Langham had proceeded for nearly a mile when 
 he saw the forest opening before them, and at the 
 sight he gave a shout of relief, but almost at the 
 same instant he pulled his pony back on his 
 haunches and whirling him about, sprang back to 
 the carriage with a cry of warning. 
 
 "There are soldiers ahead of us," he cried. 
 "Did you know it?" he demanded of the driver. 
 "Did you lie to me? Turn back." 
 
 "He can t turn back," MacWilliams answered. 
 "They have seen us. They are only the custom 
 officers at the city limits. They know nothing. 
 Go on." He reached forward and catching the 
 reins dragged the horses down into a walk. Then 
 he handed the reins back to the driver with a 
 shake of the head. 
 
 "If you know these roads as well as you say 
 you do, you want to keep us out of the way of 
 soldiers," he said. "If we fall into a trap you ll 
 be the first man shot on either side." 
 
 A sentry strolled lazily out into the road drag 
 ging his gun after him by the bayonet, and raised 
 his hand for them to halt. His captain followed 
 him from the post-house throwing away a cigarette 
 as he came, and saluted MacWilliams on the box 
 and bowed to the two riders in the background. 
 In his right hand he held one of the long iron 
 rods with which the collectors of the city s taxes 
 
 269
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 were wont to pierce the bundles and packs, and 
 even the carriage cushions of those who entered 
 the city limits from the coast, and who might be 
 suspected of smuggling. 
 
 "Whose carriage is this, and where is it going?" 
 he asked. 
 
 As the speed of the diligence slackened, Hope 
 put her head out of the curtains, and as she sur 
 veyed the soldier with apparent surprise, she 
 turned to her brother. 
 
 "What does this mean?" she asked. "What 
 are we waiting for?" 
 
 "We are going to the Hacienda of Senor Pala- 
 cio," MacW T illiams said, in answer to the offi 
 cer. "The driver thinks that this is the road, 
 but I say we should have taken the one to the 
 right." 
 
 "No, this is the road to Senor Palacio s planta 
 tion," the officer answered, "but you cannot leave 
 the city without a pass signed by General Men- 
 doza. That is the order we received this morn 
 ing. Have you such a pass?" 
 
 "Certainly not," Clay answered, warmly. "This 
 is the carriage of an American, the president of 
 the mines. His daughters are inside and on their 
 way to visit the residence of Senor Palacio. They 
 are foreigners Americans. We are all foreign 
 ers, and we have a perfect right to leave the city 
 
 270
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 when we choose. You can only stop us when we 
 enter it." 
 
 The officer looked uncertainly from Clay to 
 Hope and up at the driver on the box. His eyes 
 fell upon the heavy brass mountings of the har 
 ness. They bore the arms of Olancho. He 
 wheeled sharply and called to his men inside the 
 post-house, and they stepped out from the ve 
 randa and spread themselves leisurely across the 
 road. 
 
 "Ride him down, Clay," Langham muttered, 
 in a whisper. The officer did not understand the 
 words, but he saw Clay gather the reins tighter 
 in his hands and he stepped back quickly to the 
 safety of the porch, and from that ground of 
 vantage smiled pleasantly. 
 
 "Pardon," he said, "there is no need for blows 
 when one is rich enough to pay. A little some 
 thing for myself and a drink for my brave fellows, 
 and you can go where you please." 
 
 "Damned brigands," growled Langham, sav 
 agely. 
 
 "Not at all," Clay answered. "He is an officer 
 and a gentleman. I have no money with me," he 
 said, in Spanish, addressing the officer, "but be 
 tween caballeros a word of honor is sufficient. I 
 shall be returning this way to-morrow morning, 
 and I will bring a few hundred sols from Senor 
 
 271
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 Palaclo for you and your men; but if we are fol 
 lowed you will get nothing, and you must have 
 forgotten in the mean time that you have seen us 
 pass." 
 
 There was a murmur Inside the carriage, and 
 Hope s face disapppeared from between the cur 
 tains to reappear again almost immediately. She 
 beckoned to the officer with her hand, and the 
 men saw that she held between her thumb and 
 little finger a diamond ring of size and brilliancy. 
 She moved it so that it flashed in the light of the 
 guard lantern above the post-house. 
 
 "My sister tells me you shall be given this to 
 morrow morning," Hope said, "if we are not fol 
 lowed." 
 
 The man s eyes laughed with pleasure. He 
 swept his sombrero to the ground. 
 
 "I am your servant, Senorita," he said. "Gen 
 tlemen," he cried, gayly, turning to Clay, "if you 
 wish it, I will accompany you with my men. Yes, 
 I will leave word that I have gone in the sudden 
 pursuit of smugglers; or I will remain here as you 
 wish, and send those who may follow back again." 
 
 "You are most gracious, sir," said Clay. "It 
 is always a pleasure to meet with a gentleman 
 and a philosopher. We prefer to travel without 
 an escort, and remember, you have seen nothing 
 and heard nothing." He leaned from the saddle, 
 
 272
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 and touched the officer on the breast. "That ring 
 is worth a king s ransom." 
 
 "Or a president s," muttered the man, smiling. 
 "Let the American ladies pass," he commanded. 
 
 The soldiers scattered as the whip fell, and the 
 horses once more leaped forward, and as the car 
 riage entered the forest, Clay looked back and saw 
 the officer exhaling the smoke of a fresh cigarette, 
 with the satisfaction of one who enjoys a clean 
 conscience and a sense of duty well performed. 
 
 The road through the forest was narrow and 
 uneven, and as the horses fell into a trot the men 
 on horseback closed up together behind the car 
 riage. 
 
 "Do you think that road-agent will keep his 
 word?" Langham asked. 
 
 "Yes; he has nothing to win by telling the 
 truth," Clay answered. "He can say he saw a 
 party of foreigners, Americans, driving in the 
 direction of Palacio s coffee plantation. That lets 
 him out, and in the morning he knows he can 
 levy on us for the gate money. I am not so much 
 afraid of being overtaken as I am that King may 
 make a mistake and not get to Bocos on time. 
 We ought to reach there, if the carriage holds 
 together, by eleven. King should be there by 
 eight o clock, and the yacht ought to make the 
 run to Truxillo in three hours. But we shall not 
 
 273
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 be able to get back to the city before five to-mor 
 row morning. I suppose your family will be wild 
 about Hope. We didn t know where she was 
 when we sent the groom back to King." 
 
 "Do you think that driver is taking us the right 
 way?" Langham asked, after a pause. 
 
 "He d better. He knows it well enough. He 
 was through the last revolution, and carried mes 
 sages from Los Bocos to the city on foot for two 
 months. He has covered every trail on the way, 
 and if he goes wrong he knows what will happen 
 to him." 
 
 "And Los Bocos it is a village, isn t it, and 
 the landing must be in sight of the Custom-house?" 
 
 "The village lies some distance back from the 
 shore, and the only house on the beach is the 
 Custom-house itself; but every one will be asleep 
 by the time we get there, and it will take us only 
 a minute to hand her into the launch. If there 
 should be a guard there, King will have fixed them 
 one way or another by the time we arrive. Any 
 how, there is no need of looking for trouble that 
 far ahead. There is enough to worry about in 
 between. We haven t got there yet." 
 
 The moon rose grandly a few minutes later, 
 and flooded the forest with light so that the open 
 places were as clear as day. It threw strange 
 shadows across the trail, and turned the rocks and 
 
 274
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 fallen trees into figures of men crouching or stand 
 ing upright with uplifted arms. They were so 
 like to them that Clay and Langham flung their 
 carbines to their shoulders again and again, and 
 pointed them at some black object that turned as 
 they advanced into wood or stone. From the for 
 est they came to little streams and broad shallow 
 rivers where the rocks in the fording places churned 
 the water into white masses of foam, and the 
 horses kicked up showers of spray as they made 
 their way, slipping and stumbling, against the cur 
 rent. It was a silent pilgrim age, and never for 
 a moment did the strain slacken or the men draw 
 rein. Sometimes, as they hurried across a broad 
 tableland, or skirted the edge of a precipice and 
 looked down hundreds of feet below at the shining 
 waters they had just forded, or up at the rocky 
 points of the mountains before them, the beauty 
 of the night overcame them and made them for 
 get the significance of their journey. 
 
 They were not always alone, for they passed 
 at intervals through sleeping villages of mud huts 
 with thatched roofs, where the dogs ran yelping 
 out to bark at them, and where the pine-knots, 
 blazing on the clay ovens, burned cheerily in the 
 moonlight. In the low lands where the fever lay, 
 the mist rose above the level of their heads and 
 enshrouded them in a curtain of fog, and the dew 
 
 275
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 fell heavily, penetrating their clothing and chilling 
 their heated bodies so that the sweating horses 
 moved in a lather of steam. 
 
 They had settled down into a steady gallop 
 now, and ten or fifteen miles had been left behind 
 them. 
 
 "We are making excellent time," said Clay. 
 "The village of San Lorenzo should lie beyond 
 that ridge." He drove up beside the driver and 
 pointed with his whip. "Is not that San Loren 
 zo?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes, senor," the man answered, "but I mean 
 to drive around it by the old wagon trail. It is 
 a large town, and people may be awake. You 
 will be able to see it from the top of the next 
 hill." 
 
 The cavalcade stopped at the summit of the 
 ridge and the men looked down into the silent 
 village. It was like the others they had passed, 
 with a few houses built round a square of grass 
 that could hardly be recognized as a plaza, ex 
 cept for the church on its one side, and the huge 
 wooden cross planted in its centre. From the top 
 of the hill they could see that the greater number 
 of the houses were in darkness, but in a large 
 building of two stories lights were shining from 
 every window. 
 
 "That is the comandancia," said the driver, 
 276
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 shaking his head. "They are still awake. It is 
 a telegraph station." 
 
 "Great Scott!" exclaimed MacWilliams. "We 
 forgot the telegraph. They may have sent word 
 to head us oft already." 
 
 "Nine o clock is not so very late," said Clay. 
 "It may mean nothing." 
 
 "We had better make sure, though," MacWil 
 liams answered, jumping to the ground. "Lend 
 me your pony, Ted, and take my place. I ll run 
 in there and dust around and see what s up. I ll 
 join you on the other side of the town after you 
 get back to the main road." 
 
 "Wait a minute," said Clay. "What do you 
 mean to do?" 
 
 "I can t tell till I get there, but I ll try to find 
 out how much they know. Don t you be afraid. 
 I ll run fast enough if there s any sign of trouble. 
 And if you come across a telegraph wire, cut it. 
 The message may not have gone over yet." 
 
 The two women in the carriage had parted the 
 flaps of the hoods and were trying to hear what 
 was being said, but could not understand, and 
 Langham explained to them that they were about 
 to make a slight detour to avoid San Lorenzo 
 while MacWilliams was going into it to recon 
 noitre. He asked if they were comfortable, and 
 assured them that the greater part of the ride was 
 
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 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 over, and that there was a good road from San 
 Lorenzo to the sea. 
 
 MacWilliams rode down into the village along 
 the main trail, and threw his reins over a post in 
 front of the comandancia. He mounted boldly 
 to the second floor of the building and stopped 
 at the head of the stairs, in front of an open door. 
 There were three men in the room before hkn, 
 one an elderly man, whom he rightly guessed was 
 the comandante, and two younger men who were 
 standing behind a railing and bending over a tele 
 graph instrument on a table. As he stamped into 
 the room, they looked up and stared at him in sur 
 prise; their faces showed that he had interrupted 
 them at a moment of unusual interest. 
 
 MacWilliams saluted the three men civilly, and, 
 according to the native custom, apologized for 
 appearing before them in his spurs. He had been 
 riding from Los Bocos to the capital, he said, and 
 his horse had gone lame. Could they tell him 
 him if there was any one in the village from whom 
 he could hire a mule, as he must push on to the 
 capital that night? 
 
 The comandante surveyed him for a moment, 
 as though still disturbed by the interruption, and 
 then shook his head impatiently. "You can hire 
 a mule from one Pulido Paul, at the corner of the 
 plaza," he said. And as MacWilliams still stood 
 
 278
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 uncertainly, he added, "You say you have come 
 from Los Bocos. Did you meet any one on your 
 way?" 
 
 The two younger men looked up at him anx 
 iously, but before he could answer, the instrument 
 began to tick out the signal, and they turned their 
 eyes to it again, and one of them began to take 
 its message down on paper. 
 
 The instrument spoke to MacWilliams also, for 
 he was used to sending telegrams daily from the 
 office to the mines, and could make it talk for him 
 in either English or Spanish. So, in his effort to 
 hear what it might say, he stammered and glanced 
 at it involuntarily, and the comandante, without 
 suspecting his reason for doing so, turned also and 
 peered over the shoulder of the man who was re 
 ceiving the message. Except for the clicking of 
 the instrument, the room was absolutely still; the 
 three men bent silently over the table, while Mac- 
 Williams stood gazing at the ceiling and turning 
 his hat in his hands. The message MacWilliams 
 read from the instrument was this: "They are re 
 ported to have left the city by the south, so they 
 are going to Para, or San Pedro, or to Los Bocos. 
 She must be stopped take an armed force and 
 guard the roads. If necessary, kill her. She has 
 in the carriage or hidden on her person, drafts 
 for five million sols. You will be held responsible 
 
 279
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 for every one of them. Repeat this message to 
 show you understand, and relay it to Los Bocos. 
 If you fail" 
 
 MacWilliams could not wait to hear more; he 
 gave a curt nod to the men and started toward 
 the stairs. "Wait," the comandante called after 
 him. 
 
 MacWilliams paused with one hand on top of 
 the banisters balancirag himself in readiness for 
 instant flight. 
 
 "You have not answered me. Did you meet 
 with any one on your ride here from Los Bo- 
 cos?" 
 
 "I met several men on foot, and the mail carrier 
 passed me a league out from the coast, and oh, 
 yes, I met a carriage at the cross roads, and the 
 driver asked me the way of San Pedro Sula." 
 
 "A carriage? yes and what did you tell 
 him?" 
 
 "I told him he was on the road to Los Bocos, 
 and he turned back and " 
 
 "You are sure he turned back?" 
 
 "Certainly, sir. I rode behind him for some 
 distance. He turned finally to the right into the 
 trail to San Pedro Sula." 
 
 The man flung himself across the railing. 
 
 "Quick," he commanded, "telegraph to Mo> 
 rales, Comandante San Pedro Sula " 
 
 280
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 He had turned his back on MacWilliams, and 
 as the younger man bent over the instrument, Mac- 
 Williams stepped softly down the stairs, and 
 mounting his pony rode slowly off in the direction 
 of the capital. As soon as he had reached the 
 outskirts of the town, he turned and galloped 
 round it and then rode fast with his head in air, 
 glancing up at the telegraph wire that sagged from 
 tree-trunk to tree-trunk along the trail. At a point 
 where he thought he could dismount in safety and 
 tear down the wire, he came across it dangling 
 from the branches and he gave a shout of re 
 lief. He caught the loose end and dragged it 
 free from its support, and then laying it across a 
 rock pounded the blade of his knife upon it with 
 a stone, until he had hacked off a piece some fifty 
 feet in length. Taking this in his hand he mount- 
 ted again and rode off with it, dragging the wire 
 in the road behind him. He held it up as he re 
 joined Clay, and laughed triumphantly. "They ll 
 have some trouble splicing that circuit," he said, 
 "you only half did the work. What wouldn t we 
 give to know all this little piece of copper knows, 
 eh?" 
 
 "Do you mean you think they have telegraphed 
 to Los Bocos already?" 
 
 "I know that they were telegraphing to San Pe 
 dro Sula as I left and to all the coast towns. But 
 
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 whether you cut this down before or after is what 
 I should like to know." 
 
 "We shall probably learn that later," said Clay, 
 grimly. 
 
 The last three miles of the journey lay over a 
 hard, smooth road, wide enough to allow the car 
 riage and its escort to ride abreast. It was in such 
 contrast to the tortuous paths they had just fol 
 lowed, that the horses gained a fresh impetus and 
 galloped forward as freely as though the race had 
 but just begun. 
 
 Madame Alvarez stopped the carriage at one 
 place and asked the men to lower the hood at the 
 back that she might feel the fresh air and see 
 about her, and when this had been done, the 
 women seated themselves with their backs to the 
 horses where they could look out at the moonlit 
 road as it unrolled behind them. 
 
 Hope felt selfishly and wickedly happy. The 
 excitement had kept her spirits at the highest point, 
 and the knowledge that Clay was guarding and 
 protecting her was in itself a pleasure. She leaned 
 back on the cushions and put her arm around the 
 older woman s waist, and listened to the light beat 
 of his pony s hoofs outside, now running ahead, 
 now scrambling and slipping up some steep place, 
 and again coming to a halt as Langham or Mac- 
 Williams called, "Look to the right, behind those 
 
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 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 trees," or "Ahead there! Don t you see what I 
 mean, something crouching?" 
 
 She did not know when the false alarms would 
 turn into a genuine attack, but she was confident 
 that when the time came he would take care of 
 her, and she welcomed the danger because it 
 brought that solace with it. 
 
 Madame Alvarez sat at her side, rigid, silent, 
 and beyond the help of comfort. She tortured 
 herself with thoughts of the ambitions she had 
 held, and which had been so cruelly mocked that 
 very morning; of the chivalric love that had been 
 hers, of the life even that had been hers, and 
 which had been given up for her so tragically. 
 When she spoke at all, it was to murmur her sor 
 row that Hope had exposed herself to danger on 
 her poor account, and that her life, as far as she 
 loved it, was at an end. Only once after the men 
 had parted the curtains and asked concerning her 
 comfort with grave solicitude did she give way 
 to tears. 
 
 "Why are they so good to me?" she moaned. 
 "Why are you so good to me? I am a wicked, 
 vain woman, I have brought a nation to war and 
 I have killed the only man I ever trusted." 
 
 Hope touched her gently with her hand and 
 felt guiltily how selfish she herself must be not 
 to feel the woman s grief, but she could not. She 
 
 283
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 only saw in it a contrast to her own happiness, a 
 black background before which the figure of Clay 
 and his solicitude for her shone out, the only fact 
 in the world that was of value. 
 
 Her thoughts were interrupted by the carriage 
 coming to a halt, and a significant movement upon 
 the part of the men. MacWilliams had descended 
 from the box-seat and stepping into the carriage 
 took the place the women had just left. 
 
 He had a carbine in his hand, and after he was 
 seated Langham handed him another which he 
 laid across his knees. 
 
 "They thought I was too conspicuous on the 
 box to do any good there," he explained in a con 
 fidential whisper. "In case there is any firing now, 
 you ladies want to get down on your knees here 
 at my feet, and hide your heads in the cushions. 
 We are entering Los Bocos." 
 
 Langham and Clay were riding far in advance, 
 scouting to the right and left, and the carriage 
 moved noiselessly behind them through the empty 
 streets. There was no light in any of the win 
 dows, and not even a dog barked, or a cock crowed. 
 The women sat erect, listening for the first signal 
 of an attack, each holding the other s hand and 
 looking at MacWilliams, who sat with his thumb 
 on the trigger of his carbine, glancing to the right 
 and left and breathing quickly. His eyes twinkled, 
 
 284
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 like those of a little fox terrier. The men dropped 
 back, and drew up on a level with the carriage. 
 
 "We are all right, so far," Clay whispered. 
 "The beach slopes down from the other side of 
 that line of trees. What is the matter with you?" 
 he demanded, suddenly, looking up at the driver, 
 "are you afraid?" 
 
 "No," the man answered, hurriedly, his voice 
 shaking; "it s the cold." 
 
 Langham had galloped on ahead and as he 
 passed through the trees and came out upon the 
 beach, he saw a broad stretch of moonlit water 
 and the lights from the yacht shining from a point 
 a quarter of a mile off shore. Among the rocks 
 on the edge of the beach was the "Vesta s" long 
 boat and her crew seated in it or standing about 
 on the beach. The carriage had stopped under the 
 protecting shadow of the trees, and he raced back 
 toward it. 
 
 "The yacht is here," he cried. "The long-boat 
 is waiting and there is not a sign of light about 
 the Custom-house. Come on," he cried. "We 
 have beaten them after all." 
 
 A sailor, who had been acting as lookout on the 
 rocks, sprang to his full height, and shouted to 
 the group around the long-boat, and King came 
 up the beach toward them running heavily through 
 the deep sand. 
 
 285
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 Madame Alvarez stepped down from the car 
 riage, and as Hope handed her her jewel case in 
 silence, the men draped her cloak about her shoul 
 ders. She put out her hand to them, and as Clay 
 took it in his, she bent her head quickly and 
 kissed his hand. "You were his friend," she 
 murmured. 
 
 She held Hope in her arms for an instant, and 
 kissed her, and then gave her hand in turn to 
 Langham and to MacWilliams. 
 
 "I do not know whether I shall ever see you 
 again," she said, looking slowly from one to the 
 other, "but I will pray for you every day, and 
 God will reward you for saving a worthless life." 
 As she finished speaking King came up to the 
 group, followed by three of his men. 
 
 "Is Hope with you, is she safe?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes, she is with me," Madame Alvarez an 
 swered. 
 
 "Thank God," King exclaimed, breathlessly. 
 "Then we will start at once, Madame. Where 
 is she? She must come with us!" 
 
 "Of course," Clay assented, eagerly, "she will 
 be much safer on the yacht." 
 
 But Hope protested. "I must get back to fa 
 ther," she said. "The yacht will not arrive until 
 late to-morrow, and the carriage can take me to 
 him five hours earlier. The family have worried 
 
 286
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 too long about me as it is, and, besides, I will not 
 leave Ted. I am going back as I came." 
 
 "It is most unsafe," King urged. 
 
 "On the contrary, it is perfectly safe now," 
 Hope answered. "It was not one of us they 
 wanted." 
 
 "You may be right," King said. "They don t 
 know what has happened to you, and perhaps after 
 all it would be better if you went back the quicker 
 way." He gave his arm to Madame Alvarez and 
 walked with her toward the shore. As the men 
 surrounded her on every side and moved away, 
 Clay glanced back at Hope and saw her standing 
 upright in the carriage looking after them. 
 
 "We will be with you in a minute," he called, 
 as though in apology for leaving her for even that 
 brief space. And then the shadow of the trees 
 shut her and the carriage from his sight. His 
 footsteps made no sound in the soft sand, and 
 except for the whispering of the palms and the 
 sleepy wash of the waves as they ran up the peb 
 bly beach and sank again, the place was as peace 
 ful and silent as a deserted island, though the moon 
 made it as light as day. 
 
 The long-boat had been drawn up with her stern 
 to the shore, and the men were already in their 
 places, some standing waiting for the order to 
 shove off, and others seated balancing their oars. 
 
 287,
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 King had arranged to fire a rocket when the 
 launch left the shore, in order that the captain 
 of the yacht might run in closer to pick them up. 
 As he hurried down the beach, he called to his 
 boatswain to give the signal, and the man answered 
 that he understood and stooped to light a match. 
 King had jumped into the stern and lifted Ma 
 dame Alvarez after him, leaving her late escort 
 standing with uncovered heads on the beach be 
 hind her, when the rocket shot up into the calm 
 white air, with a roar and a rush and a sudden 
 flash of color. At the same instant, as though in 
 answer to its challenge, the woods back of them 
 burst into an irregular line of flame, a volley of 
 rifle shots shattered the silence, and a score of bul 
 lets splashed in the water and on the rocks about 
 them. 
 
 The boatswain in the bow of the long-boat 
 tossed up his arms and pitched forward between 
 the thwarts. 
 
 "Give way," he shouted as he fell. 
 
 "Pull," Clay yelled, "pull, all of you." 
 
 He threw himself against the stern of the boat, 
 and Langham and MacWilliams clutched its sides, 
 and with their shoulders against it and their bodies 
 half sunk in the water, shoved it off, free of the 
 shore. 
 
 The shots continued fiercely, and two of the 
 288
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 crew cried out and fell back upon the oars of the 
 men behind them. 
 
 Madame Alvarez sprang to her feet and stood 
 swaying unsteadily as the boat leaped forward. 
 
 "Take me back. Stop, I command you," she 
 cried, "I will not leave those men. Do you hear?" 
 
 King caught her by the waist and dragged her 
 down, but she struggled to free herself. "I will 
 not leave them to be murdered," she cried. "You 
 cowards, put me back." 
 
 "Hold her, King," Clay shouted. "We re all 
 right. They re not firing at us." 
 
 His voice was drowned in the noise of the oars 
 beating in the rowlocks, and the reports of the 
 rifles. The boat disappeared in a mist of spray 
 and moonlight, and Clay turned and faced about 
 him. Langham and MacWilliams were crouch 
 ing behind a rock and firing at the flashes in the 
 woods. 
 
 "You can t stay there," Clay cried. "We must 
 get back to Hope." 
 
 He ran forward, dodging from side to side and 
 firing as he ran. He heard shots from the water, 
 and looking back saw that the men in the long 
 boat had ceased rowing, and were returning the 
 fire from the shore. 
 
 "Come back, Hope is all right," her brother 
 called to him. "I haven t seen a shot within a 
 
 289
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 hundred yards of her yet, they re firing from the 
 Custom-house and below. I think Mac s hit." 
 
 "I m not," MacWilliams s voice answered from 
 behind a rock, "but I d like to see something to 
 shoot at." 
 
 A hot tremor of rage swept over Clay at the 
 thought of a possibly fatal termination to the 
 night s adventure. He groaned at the mockery 
 of having found his life only to lose it now, when 
 it was more precious to him than it had ever been, 
 and to lose it in a silly brawl with semi-savages. 
 He cursed himself impotently and rebelliously for 
 a senseless fool. 
 
 "Keep back, can t you?" he heard Langham 
 calling to him from the shore. "You re only 
 drawing the fire toward Hope. She s got away 
 by now. She had both the horses." 
 
 Langham and MacWilliams started forward to 
 Clay s side, but the instant they left the shadow 
 of the rock, the bullets threw up the sand at their 
 feet and they stopped irresolutely. The moon 
 showed the three men outlined against the white 
 sand of the beach as clearly as though a search 
 light had been turned upon them, even while its 
 shadows sheltered and protected their assailants. 
 At their backs the open sea cut off retreat, and the 
 line of fire in front held them in check. They 
 were as helpless as chessmen upon a board. 
 
 290
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "I m not going to stand still to be shot at," 
 cried MacWilliams. "Let s hide or let s run. 
 This isn t doing anybody any good." But no one 
 moved. They could hear the singing of the bul 
 lets as they passed them whining in the air like 
 a banjo-string that is being tightened, and they 
 knew they were in equal danger from those who 
 were firing from the boat. 
 
 "They re shooting better," said MacWilliams. 
 "They ll reach us in a minute." 
 
 "They ve reached me already, I think," Lang- 
 ham answered, with suppressed satisfaction, "in 
 the shoulder. It s nothing." His unconcern was 
 quite sincere; to a young man who had galloped 
 through two long halves of a football match on 
 a strained tendon, a scratched shoulder was not 
 important, except as an unsought honor. 
 
 But it was of the most importance to MacWil 
 liams. He raised his voice against the men in 
 the woods in impotent fury. "Come out, you 
 cowards, where we can see you," he cried. "Come 
 out where I can shoot your black heads off." 
 
 Clay had fired the last cartridge in his rifle, and 
 throwing it away drew his revolver. 
 
 "We must either swim or hide," he said. "Put 
 your heads down and run." 
 
 But as he spoke, they saw the carriage plunging 
 out of the shadow of the woods and the horses 
 
 291
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 galloping toward them down the beach. Mac- 
 Williams gave a cheer of welcome. "Hurrah !" 
 he shouted, "it s Jose coming for us. He s a good 
 man. Well done, Jose !" he called. 
 
 "That s not Jose," Langham cried, doubtfully, 
 peering through the moonlight. "Good God! 
 It s Hope," he exclaimed. He waved his hands 
 frantically above his head. "Go back, Hope," he 
 cried, "go back!" 
 
 But the carriage did not swerve on its way 
 toward them. They all saw her now distinctly. 
 She was on the driver s box and alone, leaning 
 forward and lashing the horses backs with the 
 whip and reins, and bending over to avoid the bul 
 lets that passed above her head. As she came 
 down upon them, she stood up, her woman s fig 
 ure outlined clearly in the riding habit she still 
 wore. "Jump in when I turn," she cried. "I m 
 going to turn slowly, run and jump in." 
 
 She bent forward again and pulled the horses 
 to the right, and as they obeyed her, plunging and 
 tugging at their bits, as though they knew the 
 danger they were in, the men threw themselves 
 at the carriage. Clay caught the hood at the back, 
 swung himself up, and scrambled over the cushions 
 and up to the box seat. He dropped down behind 
 Hope, and reaching his arms around her took the 
 reins in one hand, and with the other forced her 
 
 292
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 down to her knees upon the footboard, so that, 
 as she knelt, his arms and body protected her from 
 the bullets sent after them. Langham followed 
 Clay, and tumbled into the carriage over the hood 
 at the back, but MacWilliams endeavored to vault 
 in from the step, and missing his footing fell un 
 der the hind wheel, so that the weight of the car 
 riage passed over him, and his head was buried 
 for an instant in the sand. But he was on his 
 feet again before they had noticed that he was 
 down, and as he jumped for the hood, Langham 
 caught him by the collar of his coat and dragged 
 him into the seat, panting and gasping, and rub 
 bing the sand from his mouth and nostrils. Clay 
 turned the carriage at a right angle through the 
 heavy sand, and still standing with Hope crouched 
 at his knees, he raced back to the woods into the 
 face of the firing, with the boys behind him an 
 swering it from each side of the carriage, so that 
 the horses leaped forward in a frenzy of terror, 
 and dashing through the woods, passed into the 
 first road that opened before them. 
 
 The road into which they had turned was nar 
 row, but level, and ran through a forest of banana 
 palms that bent and swayed above them. Lang- 
 ham and MacWilliams still knelt in the rear seat 
 of the carriage, watching the road on the chance 
 of possible pursuit. 
 
 293
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "Give me some cartridges," said Langham. 
 "My belt is empty. What road is this?" 
 
 "It is a private road, I should say, through 
 somebody s banana plantation. But it must cross 
 the main road somewhere. It doesn t matter, 
 we re all right now. I mean to take it easy." 
 MacWilliams turned on his back and stretched 
 out his legs on the seat opposite. 
 
 "Where do you suppose those men sprang from? 
 Were they following us all the time?" 
 
 "Perhaps, or else that message got over the 
 wire before we cut it, and they ve been lying in 
 wait for us. They were probably watching King 
 and his sailors for the last hour or so, but they 
 didn t want him. They wanted her and the 
 money. It was pretty exciting, wasn t it? How s 
 your shoulder?" 
 
 "It s a little stiff, thank you," said Langham. 
 He stood up and by peering over the hood could 
 just see the top of Clay s sombrero rising above 
 it where he sat on the back seat. 
 
 "You and Hope all right up there, Clay?" he 
 asked. 
 
 The top of the sombrero moved slightly, and 
 Langham took it as a sign that all was well. He 
 dropped back into his seat beside MacWilliams, 
 and they both breathed a long sigh of relief and 
 content. Langham s wounded arm was the one 
 
 294
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 nearest MacWilliams, and the latter parted the 
 torn sleeve and examined the furrow across the 
 shoulder with unconcealed envy. 
 
 "I am afraid it won t leave a scar," he said, 
 sympathetically. 
 
 "Won t it?" asked Langham, in some con 
 cern. 
 
 The horses had dropped into a walk, and the 
 beauty of the moonlit night put its spell upon the 
 two boys, and the rustling of the great leaves 
 above their heads stilled and quieted them so that 
 they unconsciously spoke in whispers. 
 
 Clay had not moved since the horses turned of 
 their own accord into the valley of the palms. 
 He no longer feared pursuit nor any interruption 
 to their further progress. His only sensation was 
 one of utter thankfulness that they were all well 
 out of it, and that Hope had been the one who 
 had helped them in their trouble, and his dear 
 est thought was that, whether she wished or not, 
 he owed his safety, and possibly his life, to 
 her. 
 
 She still crouched between his knees upon the 
 broad footboard, with her hands clasped in front 
 of her, and looking ahead into the vista of soft 
 mysterious lights and dark shadows that the moon 
 cast upon the road. Neither of them spoke, and 
 as the silence continued unbroken, it took a weight- 
 
 295
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 ier significance, and at each added second of time 
 became more full of meaning. 
 
 The horses had dropped into a tired walk, and 
 drew them smoothly over the white road; from 
 behind the hood came broken snatches of the boys 
 talk, and above their heads the heavy leaves of 
 the palms bent and bowed as though in benedic 
 tion. A warm breeze from the land filled the air 
 with the odor of ripening fruit and pungent smells, 
 and the silence seemed to envelop them and mark 
 them as the only living creatures awake in the 
 brilliant tropical night. 
 
 Hope sank slowly back, and as she did so, her 
 shoulder touched for an instant against Clay s 
 knee; she straightened herself and made a move 
 ment as though to rise. Her nearness to him and 
 something in her attitude at his feet held Clay in 
 a spell. He bent forward and laid his hand fear 
 fully upon her shoulder, and the touch seemed to 
 stop the blood in his veins and hushed the words 
 upon his lips. Hope raised her head slowly as 
 though with a great effort, and looked into his 
 eyes. It seemed to him that he had been looking 
 into those same eyes for centuries, as though he 
 had always known them, and the soul that looked 
 out of them into his. He bent his head lower, 
 and stretching out his arms drew her to him, and 
 
 296
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 the eyes did not waver. He raised her and held 
 her close against his breast. Her eyes faltered 
 and closed. 
 
 "Hope," he whispered, "Hope." He stooped 
 lower and kissed her, and his lips told her what 
 they could not speak and they were quite alone. 
 
 297
 
 XIV 
 
 AN hour later Langham rose with a protest 
 ing sigh and shook the hood violently. 
 
 "I say!" he called. "Are you asleep up there? 
 We ll never get home at this rate. Doesn t Hope 
 want to come back here and go to sleep?" 
 
 The carriage stopped, and the boys tumbled out 
 and walked around in front of it. Hope sat smil 
 ing on the box-seat. She was apparently far from 
 sleepy, and she was quite contented where she was, 
 she told him. 
 
 "Do you know we haven t had anything to eat 
 since yesterday at breakfast?" asked Langham. 
 "MacWilliams and I are fainting. We move that 
 we stop at the next shack we come to, and waken 
 the people up and make them give us some sup 
 per." 
 
 Hope looked aside at Clay and laughed softly. 
 "Supper?" she said. "They want supper!" 
 
 Their suffering did not seem to impress Clay 
 deeply. He sat snapping his whip at the palm- 
 trees above him, and smiled happily in an incon 
 sequent and irritating manner at nothing. 
 
 298
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "See here! Do you know that we are lost?" 
 demanded Langham, indignantly, "and starving? 
 Have you any idea at all where you are?" 
 
 "I have not," said Clay, cheerfully. "All I 
 know is that a long time ago there was a revolu 
 tion and a woman with jewels, who escaped in an 
 open boat, and I recollect playing that I was a 
 target and standing up to be shot at in a bright 
 light. After that I woke up to the really impor 
 tant things of life among which supper is not 
 one." 
 
 Langham and MacWilliams looked at each 
 other doubtfully, and Langham shook his head. 
 
 "Get down off that box," he commanded. "If 
 you and Hope think this is merely a pleasant 
 moonlight drive, we don t. You two can sit in 
 the carriage now, and we ll take a turn at driving, 
 and we ll guarantee to get you to some place 
 soon." 
 
 Clay and Hope descended meekly and seated 
 themselves under the hood, where they could look 
 out upon the moonlit road as it unrolled behind 
 them. But they were no longer to enjoy their 
 former leisurely progress. The new whip lashed 
 his horses into a gallop, and the trees flew past 
 them on either hand. 
 
 "Do you remember that chap in the Last Ride 
 Together ?" said Clay. 
 
 299
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 * 1 and my mistress, side by side, 
 
 Shall be together forever ride, 
 And so one more day am I deified. 
 
 Who knows the world may end to-night. * 
 
 Hope laughed triumphantly, and threw out her 
 arms as though she would embrace the whole beau 
 tiful world that stretched around them. 
 
 "Oh, no," she laughed. "To-night the world 
 has just begun." 
 
 The carriage stopped, and there was a confusion 
 of voices on the box-seat, and then a great barking 
 of dogs, and they beheld MacWilliams beating 
 and kicking at the door of a hut. The door opened 
 for an inch, and there was a long debate in Span 
 ish, and finally the door was closed again, and 
 a light appeared through the windows. A few 
 minutes later a man and woman came out of the 
 hut, shivering and yawning, and made a fire in the 
 sun-baked oven at the side of the house. Hope 
 and Clay remained seated in the carriage, and 
 watched the flames springing up from the oily 
 fagots, and the boys moving about with flaring 
 torches of pine, pulling down bundles of fodder 
 for the horses from the roof of the kitchen, while 
 two sleepy girls disappeared toward a mountain 
 stream, one carrying a jar on her shoulder, and 
 the other lighting the way with a torch. Hope 
 sat with her chin on her hand, watching the black 
 
 300
 
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 figures passing between them and the fire, and 
 standing above it with its light on their faces, 
 shading their eyes from the heat with one hand, 
 and stirring something in a smoking caldron with 
 the other. Hope felt an overflowing sense of 
 gratitude to these simple strangers for the trouble 
 they w r ere taking. She felt how good every one 
 was, and how wonderfully kind and generous was 
 the world that she lived in. 
 
 Her brother came over to the carriage and 
 bowed with mock courtesy. 
 
 "I trust, now that we have done all the work," 
 he said, "that your excellencies will condescend to 
 share our frugal fare, or must we bring it to you 
 here?" 
 
 The clay oven stood in the middle of a hut 
 of laced twigs, through which the smoke drifted 
 freely. There was a row of wooden benches 
 around it, and they all seated themselves and ate 
 ravenously of rice and fried plantains, while the 
 woman patted and tossed tortillas between her 
 hands, eyeing her guests curiously. Her glance 
 fell upon Langham s shoulder, and rested there 
 for so long that Hope followed the direction of 
 her eyes. She leaped to her feet with a cry of 
 fear and reproach, and ran toward her brother. 
 
 "Ted!" she cried, "you are hurt! you are 
 wounded, and you never told me! What is it? 
 
 301
 
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 Is it very bad?" Clay crossed the floor in a 
 stride, his face full of concern. 
 
 "Leave me alone !" cried the stern brother, back 
 ing away and warding them off with the coffee 
 pot. "It s only scratched. You ll spill the cof 
 fee." 
 
 But at the sight of the blood Hope had turned 
 very white, and throwing her arms around her 
 brother s neck, hid her eyes on his other shoulder 
 and began to cry. 
 
 "I am so selfish," she sobbed. "I have been 
 so happy and you were suffering all the time." 
 
 Her brother stared at the others in dismay. 
 "What nonsense," he said, patting her on the 
 shoulder. "You re a bit tired, and you need rest. 
 That s what you need. The idea of my sister 
 going off in hysterics after behaving like such a 
 sport and before these young ladies, too. Aren t 
 you ashamed?" 
 
 "I should think they d be ashamed," said Mac- 
 Williams, severely, as he continued placidly with 
 his supper. "They haven t got enough clothes 
 on." 
 
 Langham looked over Hope s shoulder at Clay 
 and nodded significantly. "She s been on a good 
 deal of a strain," he explained apologetically, 
 "and no wonder; it s been rather an unusual night 
 for her." 
 
 302
 
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 Hope raised her head and smiled at him through 
 her tears. Then she turned and moved toward 
 Clay. She brushed her eyes with the back of her 
 hand and laughed. "It has been an unusual night," 
 she said. "Shall I tell him?" she asked. 
 
 Clay straightened himself unconsciously, and 
 stepped beside her and took her hand; MacWil- 
 liams quickly lowered to the bench the dish from 
 which he was eating, and stood up, too. The 
 people of the house stared at the group in the fire 
 light with puzzled interest, at the beautiful young 
 girl, and at the tall, sunburned young man at her 
 side. Langham looked from his sister to Clay 
 and back again, and laughed uneasily. 
 
 "Langham, I have been very bold," said Clay. 
 "I have asked your sister to marry me and she 
 has said that she would." 
 
 Langham flushed as red as his sister. He felt 
 himself at a disadvantage in the presence of a love 
 as great and strong as he knew this must be. It 
 made him seem strangely young and inadequate. 
 He crossed over to his sister awkwardly and kissed 
 her, and then took Clay s hand, and the three 
 stood together and looked at one another, and 
 there was no sign of doubt or question in the face 
 of any one of them. They stood so for some little 
 time, smiling and exclaiming together, and utterly 
 unconscious of anything but their own delight and 
 
 303
 
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 happiness. MacWilliams watched them, his face 
 puckered into odd wrinkles and his eyes half- 
 closed. Hope suddenly broke away from the 
 others and turned toward him with her hands held 
 out. 
 
 "Have you nothing to say to me, Mr. MacWil 
 liams?" she asked. 
 
 MacWilliams looked doubtfully at Clay, as 
 though from force of habit he must ask advice 
 from his chief first, and then took the hands that 
 she held out to him and shook them up and down. 
 His usual confidence seemed to have forsaken him, 
 and he stood, shifting from one foot to the other, 
 smiling and abashed. 
 
 "Well, I always said they didn t make them 
 any better than you," he gasped at last. "I was 
 always telling him that, wasn t I?" He nodded 
 energetically at Clay. "And that s so; they don t 
 make em any better than you." 
 
 He dropped her hands and crossed over to Clay, 
 and stood surveying him with a smile of wonder 
 and admiration. 
 
 "How d you do it?" he demanded. "How did 
 you do it? I suppose you know," he asked stern 
 ly, "that you re not good enough for Miss Hope? 
 You know that, don t you?" 
 
 "Of course I know that," said Clay. 
 
 MacWilliams walked toward the door and stood 
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 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 in it for a second, looking back at them over his 
 shoulder. "They don t make them any better than 
 that," he reiterated gravely, and disappeared in 
 the direction of the horses, shaking his head and 
 muttering his astonishment and delight. 
 
 "Please give me some money," Hope said to 
 Clay. "All the money you have," she added, smil 
 ing at her presumption of authority over him, "and 
 you, too, Ted." The men emptied their pockets, 
 and Hope poured the mass of silver into the hands 
 of the women, who gazed at it uncomprehend- 
 ingly. 
 
 "Thank you for your trouble and your good 
 supper," Hope said in Spanish, "and may no evil 
 come to your house." 
 
 The woman and her daughters followed her to 
 the carriage, bowing and uttering good wishes in 
 the extravagant metaphor of their country; and 
 as they drove away, Hope waved her hand to them 
 as she sank closer against Clay s shoulder. 
 
 "The world is full of such kind and gentle 
 souls," she said. 
 
 In an hour they had regained the main road, 
 and a little later the stars grew dim and the moon 
 light faded, and trees and bushes and rocks began 
 to take substance and to grow into form and out 
 line. They saw by the cool, gray light of the 
 morning the familiar hills around the capital, and 
 
 305
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 at a cry from the boys on the box-seat, they looked 
 ahead and beheld the harbor of Valencia at their 
 feet, lying as placid and undisturbed as the water 
 in a bath-tub. As they turned up the hill into the 
 road that led to the Palms, they saw the sleeping 
 capital like a city of the dead below them, its white 
 buildings reddened with the light of the rising 
 sun. From three places in different parts of the 
 city, thick columns of smoke rose lazily to the 
 sky. 
 
 "I had forgotten!" said Clay; "they have been 
 having a revolution here. It seems so long ago." 
 
 By five o clock they had reached the gate of the 
 Palms, and their appearance startled the sentry on 
 post into a state of undisciplined joy. A riderless 
 pony, the one upon which Jose had made his escape 
 when the firing began, had crept into the stable 
 an hour previous, stiff and bruised and weary, 
 and had led the people at the Palms to fear the 
 worst. 
 
 Mr. Langham and his daughter were standing 
 on the veranda as the horses came galloping up 
 the avenue. They had been awake all the night, 
 and the face of each was white and drawn with 
 anxiety and loss of sleep. Mr. Langham caught 
 Hope in his arms and held her face close to his 
 in silence. 
 
 "Where have you been?" he said at last. "Why 
 306
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 did you treat me like this? You knew how 1 
 would suffer." 
 
 "I could not help it," Hope cried. "I had to 
 go with Madame Alvarez." 
 
 Her sister had suffered as acutely as had Mr. 
 Langham himself, as long as she was in ignorance 
 of Hope s whereabouts. But now that she saw 
 Hope in the flesh again, she felt a reaction against 
 her for the anxiety and distress she had caused 
 them. 
 
 "My dear Hope," she said, "is every one to 
 be sacrificed for Madame Alvarez? What pos 
 sible use could you be to her at such a time? It 
 was not the time nor the place for a young girl. 
 You were only another responsibility for the men." 
 
 "Clay seemed willing to accept the responsibil 
 ity," said Langham, without a smile. "And, be 
 sides," he added, "if Hope had not been with us 
 we might never have reached home alive." 
 
 But it was only after much earnest protest and 
 many explanations that Mr. Langham was paci 
 fied, and felt assured that his son s wound was not 
 dangerous, and that his daughter was quite safe. 
 
 Miss Langham and himself, he said, had passed 
 a trying night. There had been much firing in 
 the city, and continual uproar. The houses of 
 several of the friends of Alvarez had been burned 
 and sacked. Alvarez himself had been shot as 
 
 307
 
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 soon as he had entered the yard of the military 
 prison. It was then given out that he had com 
 mitted suicide. Mendoza had not dared to kill 
 Rojas, because of the feeling of the people toward 
 him, and had even shown him to the mob from 
 behind the bars of one of the windows in order 
 to satisfy them that he was still living. The Brit 
 ish Minister had sent to the Palace for the body 
 of Captain Stuart, and had had it escorted to the 
 Legation, from whence it would be sent to Eng 
 land. This, as far as Mr. Langham had heard, 
 was the news of the night just over. 
 
 "Two native officers called here for you about 
 midnight, Clay," he continued, "and they are still 
 waiting for you below at your office. They came 
 from Rojas s troops, who are encamped on the 
 hills at the other side of the city. They wanted 
 you to join them with the men from the mines. 
 I told them I did not know when you would re 
 turn, and they said they would wait. If you could 
 have been here last night, it is possible that we 
 might have done something, but now that it is 
 all over, I am glad that you saved that woman 
 instead. I should have liked, though, to have 
 struck one blow at them. But we cannot hope to 
 win against assassins. The death of young Stuart 
 has hurt me terribly, and the murder of Alvarez, 
 coming on top of it, has made me wish I had never 
 
 308
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 heard of nor seen Olancho. I have decided to 
 go away at once, on the next steamer, and I will 
 take my daughters with me, and Ted, too. The 
 State Department at Washington can fight with 
 Mendoza for the mines. You made a good stand, 
 but they made a better one, and they have beaten 
 us. Mendoza s coup d etat has passed into his 
 tory, and the revolution is at an end." 
 
 On his arrival Clay had at once asked for a 
 cigar, and while Mr. Langham was speaking he 
 had been biting it between his teeth, with the 
 serious satisfaction of a man who had been twelve 
 hours without one. He knocked the ashes from 
 it and considered the burning end thoughtfully. 
 Then he glanced at Hope as she stood among the 
 group on the veranda. She was waiting for his 
 reply and watching him intently. He seemed to 
 be confident that she would approve of the only 
 course he saw open to him. 
 
 "The revolution is not at an end by any means, 
 Mr. Langham," he said at last, simply. "It has 
 just begun." He turned abruptly and walked 
 away in the direction of the office, and MacWil- 
 liams and Langham stepped off the veranda and 
 followed him as a matter of course. 
 
 The soldiers in the army who were known to 
 be faithful to General Rojas belonged to the Third 
 and Fourth regiments, and numbered four thou- 
 
 309
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 sand on paper, and two thousand by count of 
 heads. When they had seen their leader taken 
 prisoner, and swept off the parade-ground by Men- 
 doza s cavalry, they had first attempted to follow 
 in pursuit and recapture him, but the men on 
 horseback had at once shaken off the men on foot 
 and left them, panting and breathless, in the dust 
 behind them. So they halted uncertainly in the 
 road, and their young officers held counsel to 
 gether. They first considered the advisability of 
 attacking the military prison, but decided against 
 doing so, as it would lead, they feared, whether 
 it proved successful or not, to the murder of Ro- 
 jas. It was impossible to return to the city where 
 Mendoza s First and Second regiments greatly 
 outnumbered them. Having no leader and no 
 headquarters, the officers marched the men to the 
 hills above the city and went into camp to await 
 further developments. 
 
 Throughout the night they watched the illu 
 mination of the city and of the boats in the har 
 bor below them; they saw the flames bursting from 
 the homes of the members of Alvarez s Cabinet, 
 and when the morning broke they beheld the 
 grounds of the Palace swarming with Mendoza s 
 troops, and the red and white barred flag of the 
 revolution floating over it. The news of the as 
 sassination of Alvarez and the fact that Rojas had 
 
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 been spared for fear of the people, had been car 
 ried to them early in the evening, and with this 
 knowledge of their General s safety hope returned 
 and fresh plans were discussed. By midnight they 
 had definitely decided that should Mendoza at 
 tempt to dislodge them the next morning, they 
 would make a stand, but that if the fight went 
 against them, they would fall back along the 
 mountain roads to the Valencia mines, where they 
 hoped to persuade the fifteen hundred soldiers 
 there installed to join forces with them against the 
 new Dictator. 
 
 In order to assure themselves of this help, a 
 messenger was despatched by a circuitous route 
 to the Palms, to ask the aid of the resident di 
 rector, and another was sent to the mines to work 
 upon the feelings of the soldiers themselves. The 
 officer who had been sent to the Palms to petition 
 Clay for the loan of his soldier-workmen, had de 
 cided to remain until Clay returned, and another 
 messenger had been sent after him from the camp 
 on the same errand. 
 
 These two lieutenants greeted Clay with enthu 
 siasm, but he at once interrupted them, and began 
 plying them with questions as to where their camp 
 was situated and what roads led from it to the 
 Palms. 
 
 "Bring your men at once to this end of our
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 railroad," he said. "It is still early, and the revo 
 lutionists will sleep late. They are drugged with 
 liquor and worn out with excitement, and what 
 ever may have been their intentions toward you 
 last night, they will be late in putting them into 
 practice this morning. I will telegraph Kirkland 
 to come up at once with all of his soldrers and with 
 his three hundred Irishmen. Allowing him a half- 
 hour to collect them and to get his flat cars to 
 gether, and another half-hour in which to make 
 the run, he should be here by half-past six and 
 that s quick mobilization. You ride back now and 
 march your men here at a double-quick. With 
 your two thousand we shall have in all three thou 
 sand and eight hundred men. I must have abso 
 lute control over my own troops. Otherwise I 
 shall act independently of you and go into the city 
 alone with my workmen." 
 
 "That is unnecessary," said one of the lieuten 
 ants. "We have no officers. If you do not com 
 mand us, there is no one else to do it. We prom 
 ise that our men will follow you and give you 
 every obedience. They have been led by foreign 
 ers before, by young Captain Stuart and Major 
 Fergurson and Colonel Shrevington. They know 
 how highly General Rojas thinks of you, and they 
 know that you have led Continental armies in Eu 
 rope." 
 
 3*2
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "Well, don t tell them I haven t until this is 
 over," said Clay. "Now, ride hard, gentlemen, 
 and bring your men here as quickly as possible." 
 
 The lieutenants thanked him effusively and gal 
 loped away, radiant at the success of their mission, 
 and Clay entered the office where MacWilliams 
 was telegraphing his orders to Kirkland. He seat 
 ed himself beside the instrument, and from time 
 to time answered the questions Kirkland sent back 
 to him over the wire, and in the intervals of silence 
 thought of Hope. It was the first time he had 
 gone into action feeling the touch of a woman s 
 hand upon his sleeve, and he was fearful lest she 
 might think he had considered her too lightly. 
 
 He took a piece of paper from the table and 
 wrote a few lines upon it, and then rewrote them 
 several times. The message he finally sent to her 
 was this: "I am sure you understand, and that 
 you would not have me give up beaten now, when 
 what we do to-day may set us right again. I 
 know better than any one else in the world can 
 know, what I run the risk of losing, but you would 
 not have that fear stop me from going on with 
 what we have been struggling for so long. I can 
 not come back to see you before we start, but I 
 know your heart is with me. With great love, 
 Robert Clay." 
 
 He gave the note to his servant, and the answer 
 313
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 was brought to him almost immediately. Hope 
 had not rewritten her message : "I love you because 
 you are the sort of man you are, and had you 
 given up as father wished you to do, or on my 
 account, you would have been some one else, and 
 I would have had to begin over again to learn to 
 love you for some different reasons. I know that 
 you will come back to me bringing your sheaves 
 with you. Nothing can happen to you now. 
 Hope." 
 
 He had never received a line from her before, 
 and he read and reread this with a sense of such 
 pride and happiness in his face that MacWilliams 
 smiled covertly and bent his eyes upon his instru 
 ment. Clay went back into his room and kissed 
 the page of paper gently, flushing like a boy as 
 he did so, and then folding it carefully, he put it 
 away beneath his jacket. He glanced about him 
 guiltily, although he was quite alone, and taking 
 out his watch, pried it open and looked down into 
 the face of the photograph that had smiled up at 
 him from it for so many years. He thought how 
 unlike it was to Alice Langham as he knew her. 
 He judged that it must have been taken when she 
 was very young, at the age Hope was then, before 
 the little world she lived in had crippled and nar 
 rowed her and marked her for its own. He re 
 membered what she had said to him the first night
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 he had seen her. "That is the picture of the 
 girl who ceased to exist four years ago, and whom 
 you have never met." He wondered if she had 
 ever existed. 
 
 "It looks more like Hope than her sister," he 
 mused. "It looks very much like Hope." He 
 decided that he would let it remain where it was 
 until Hope gave him a better one; and smiling 
 slightly he snapped the lid fast, as though he were 
 closing a door on the face of Alice Langham and 
 locking it forever. 
 
 Kirkland was in the cab of the locomotive that 
 brought the soldiers from the mine. He stopped 
 the first car in front of the freight station until 
 the workmen had filed out and formed into a dou 
 ble line on the platform. Then he moved the 
 train forward the length of that car, and those 
 in the one following were mustered out in a similar 
 manner. As the cars continued to come in, the 
 men at the head of the double line passed on 
 through the freight station and on up the road 
 to the city in an unbroken column. There was no 
 confusion, no crowding, and no haste. 
 
 When the last car had been emptied, Clay rode 
 down the line and appointed a foreman to take 
 charge of each company, stationing his engineers 
 and the Irish-Americans in the van. It looked 
 more like a mob than a regiment. None of the
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 men were in uniform, and the native soldiers were 
 barefoot. But they showed a winning spirit, and 
 stood in as orderly an array as though they were 
 drawn up in line to receive their month s wages. 
 The Americans in front of the column were hu 
 morously disposed, and inclined to consider the 
 whole affair as a pleasant outing. They had been 
 placed in front, not because they were better shots 
 than the natives, but because every South Ameri 
 can thinks that every citizen of the United States 
 is a master either of the rifle or the revolver, and 
 Clay was counting on this superstition. His as 
 sistant engineers and foremen hailed him as he 
 rode on up and down the line with good-natured 
 cheers, and asked him when they were to get their 
 commissions, and if it were true that they were 
 all captains, or only colonels, as they were at home. 
 They had been waiting for a half-hour, when 
 there was the sound of horses hoofs on the road, 
 and the even beat of men s feet, and the advance 
 guard of the Third and Fourth regiments came 
 toward them at a quickstep. The men were still 
 in the full-dress uniforms they had worn at the 
 review the day before, and in comparison with the 
 soldier-workmen and the Americans in flannel 
 shirts, they presented so martial a showing that 
 they were welcomed with tumultuous cheers. Clay 
 threw them into a double line on one side of the 
 
 316
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 road, down the length of which his own marched 
 until they had reached the end of it nearest to the 
 city, when they took up their position in a close 
 formation, and the native regiments fell in behind 
 them. Clay selected twenty of the best shots 
 from among the engineers and sent them on ahead 
 as a skirmish line. They were ordered to fall back 
 at once if they saw any sign of the enemy. In 
 this order the column of four thousand men started 
 for the city. 
 
 It was a little after seven when they advanced, 
 and the air was mild and peaceful. Men and 
 women came crowding to the doors and windows 
 of the huts as they passed, and stood watching 
 them in silence, not knowing to which party the 
 small army might belong. In order to enlighten 
 them, Clay shouted, "Viva Rojas." And his men 
 took it up, and the people answered gladly. 
 
 They had reached the closely built portion of 
 the city when the skirmish line came running back 
 to say that it had been met by a detachment of 
 Mendoza s cavalry, who had galloped away as 
 soon as they saw them. There was then no longer 
 any doubt that the fact of their coming was known 
 at the Palace, and Clay halted his men in a bare 
 plaza and divided them into three columns. Three 
 streets ran parallel with one another from this 
 plaza to the heart of the city, and opened directly
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 upon the garden of the Palace where Mendoza 
 had fortified himself. Clay directed the columns 
 to advance up these streets, keeping the head of 
 each column in touch with the other two. At the 
 word they were to pour down the side streets and 
 rally to each other s assistance. 
 
 As they stood, drawn up on the three sides of 
 the plaza, he rode out before them and held up 
 his hat for silence. They were there with arms 
 in their hands, he said, for two reasons: the greater 
 one, and the one which he knew actuated the na 
 tive soldiers, was their desire to preserve the Con 
 stitution of the Republic. According to their own 
 laws, the Vice-President must succeed when the 
 President s term of office had expired, or in the 
 event of his death. President Alvarez had been 
 assassinated, and the Vice-President, General Ro- 
 jas, was, in consequence, his legal successor. It 
 was their duty, as soldiers of the Republic, to 
 rescue him from prison, to drive the man who had 
 usurped his place into exile, and by so doing up 
 hold the laws which they had themselves laid 
 down. The second motive, he went on, was a less 
 worthy and more selfish one. The Olancho mines, 
 which now gave work to thousands and brought 
 millions of dollars into the country, were coveted 
 by Mendoza, who would, if he could, convert them 
 ; nto a monopoly of his government. If he re-
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 mained in power all foreigners would be driven 
 out of the country, and the soldiers would be 
 forced to work in the mines without payment. 
 Their condition would be little better than that 
 of the slaves in the salt mines of Siberia. Not 
 only would they no longer be paid for their labor, 
 but the people as a whole would cease to receive 
 that share of the earnings of the mines which had 
 hitherto been theirs. 
 
 "Under President Rojas you will have liberty, 
 justice, and prosperity," Clay cried. "Under 
 Mendoza you will be ruled by martial law. He 
 will rob and overtax you, and you will live through 
 a reign of terror. Between them which will you 
 choose?" 
 
 The native soldiers answered by cries of "Ro 
 jas," and breaking ranks rushed across the plaza 
 toward him, crowding around his horse and 
 shouting, "Long live Rojas," "Long live the Con 
 stitution," "Death to Mendoza." The Americans 
 stood as they were and gave three cheers for the 
 Government. 
 
 They were still cheering and shouting as they 
 advanced upon the Palace, and the noise of their 
 coming drove the people indoors, so that they 
 marched through deserted streets and between 
 closed doors and sightless windows. No one op 
 posed them, and no one encouraged them. But 
 
 319
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 they could now see the fagade of the Palace and 
 the flag of the Revolutionists hanging from the 
 mast in front of it. 
 
 Three blocks distant from the Palace they came 
 upon the buildings of the United States and Eng 
 lish Legations, where the flags of the two coun 
 tries had been hung out over the narrow thor 
 oughfare. The windows and the roofs of each 
 legation were crowded with women and children 
 who had sought refuge there, and the column halt 
 ed as Weimer, the Consul, and Sir Julian Pindar, 
 the English Minister, came out, bare-headed, into 
 the street and beckoned to Clay to stop. 
 
 "As our Minister was not here," Weimer said, 
 "I telegraphed to Truxillo for the man-of-war 
 there. She started some time ago, and we have 
 just heard that she is entering the lower harbor. 
 She should have her blue-jackets on shore in twen 
 ty minutes. Sir Julian and I think you ought to 
 wait for them." 
 
 The English Minister put a detaining hand on 
 Clay s bridle. "If you attack Mendoza at the 
 Palace with this mob," he remonstrated, "rioting 
 and lawlessness generally will break out all over 
 the city. I ask you to keep them back until we 
 get your sailors to police the streets and protect 
 property." 
 
 Clay glanced over his shoulder at the engineers 
 320
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 and the Irish workmen standing in solemn array 
 behind him. "Oh, you can hardly call this a mob," 
 he said. "They look a little rough and ready, but 
 I will answer for them. The two other columns 
 that are coming up the streets parallel to this are 
 Government troops and properly engaged in driv 
 ing a usurper out of the Government building. 
 The best thing you can do is to get down to the 
 wharf and send the marines and blue-jackets where 
 you think they will do the most good. I can t wait 
 for them. And they can t come too soon." 
 
 The grounds of the Palace occupied two entire 
 blocks; the Botanical Gardens were in the rear, 
 and in front a series of low terraces ran down 
 from its veranda to the high iron fence which 
 separated the grounds from the chief thorough 
 fare of the city. 
 
 Clay sent word to the left and right wing of 
 his little army to make a detour one street distant 
 from the Palace grounds and form in the street 
 in the rear of the Botanical Gardens. When they 
 heard the firing of his men from the front they 
 were to force their way through the gates at the 
 back and attack the Palace in the rear. 
 
 "Mendoza has the place completely barricad 
 ed," Weimer warned him, "and he has three field 
 pieces covering each of these streets. You and 
 your men are directly in line of one of them now. 
 
 321
 
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 He is only waiting for you to get a little nearer 
 before he lets loose." 
 
 From where he sat Clay could count the bars 
 of the iron fence in front of the grounds. But 
 the boards that backed them prevented his form 
 ing any idea of the strength or the distribution 
 of Mendoza s forces. He drew his staff of ama 
 teur officers to one side and explained the situation 
 to them. 
 
 "The Theatre National and the Club Union," 
 he said, "face the Palace from the opposite cor 
 ners of this street. You must get into them and 
 barricade the windows and throw up some sort 
 of shelter for yourselves along the edge of the 
 roofs and drive the men behind that fence back 
 to the Palace. Clear them away from the cannon 
 first, and keep them away from it. I will be wait 
 ing in the street below. When you have driven 
 them back, we will charge the gates and have it 
 out with them in the gardens. The Third and 
 Fourth regiments ought to take them in the rear 
 about the same time. You will continue to pick 
 them off from the roof." 
 
 The two supporting columns had already started 
 on their roundabout way to the rear of the Palace. 
 Clay gathered up his reins, and telling his men to 
 keep close to the walls, started forward, his sol 
 diers following on the sidewalks and leaving the 
 
 322
 
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 middle of the street clear. As they reached a 
 point a hundred yards below the Palace, a part 
 of the wooden shield behind the fence was thrown 
 down, there was a puff of white smoke and a re 
 port, and a cannon-ball struck the roof of a house 
 which they were passing and sent the tiles clatter 
 ing about their heads. But the men in the lead 
 had already reached the stage-door of the theatre 
 and were opposite one of the doors to the club. 
 They drove these in with the butts of their rifles, 
 and raced up the stairs of each of the deserted 
 buildings until they reached the roof. Langham 
 was swept by a weight of men across a stage, and 
 jumped among the music racks in the orchestra. 
 He caught a glimpse of the early morning sun 
 shining on the tawdry hangings of the boxes and 
 the exaggerated perspective of the scenery. He 
 ran through corridors between two great statues 
 of Comedy and Tragedy, and up a marble stair 
 case to a lobby in which he saw the white faces 
 about him multiplied in long mirrors, and so out 
 to an iron balcony from which he looked down, 
 panting and breathless, upon the Palace Gardens, 
 swarming with soldiers and white with smoke. 
 Men poured through the windows of the club op 
 posite, dragging sofas and chairs out to the bal 
 cony and upon the flat roof. The men near him 
 were tearing down the yellow silk curtains in the 
 
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 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 lobby and draping them along the railing of the 
 balcony to better conceal their movements from 
 the enemy below. Bullets spattered the stucco 
 about their heads, and panes of glass broke sud 
 denly and fell in glittering particles upon their 
 shoulders. The firing had already begun from 
 the roofs near them. Beyond the club and the 
 theatre and far along the street on each side of 
 the Palace the merchants were slamming the iron 
 shutters of their shops, and men and women were 
 running for refuge up the high steps of the church 
 of Santa Maria. Others were gathered in black 
 masses on the balconies and roofs of the more dis 
 tant houses, where they stood outlined against the 
 soft blue sky in gigantic silhouette. Their shouts 
 of encouragement and anger carried clearly in the 
 morning air, and spurred on the gladiators below 
 to greater effort. In the Palace Gardens a line of 
 Mendoza s men fought from behind the first bar 
 ricade, while others dragged tables and bedding 
 and chairs across the green terraces and tumbled 
 them down to those below, who seized them and 
 formed them into a second line of defence. 
 
 Two of the assistant engineers were kneeling at 
 Langham s feet with the barrels of their rifles rest 
 ing on the railing of the balcony. Their eyes had 
 been trained for years to judge distances and to 
 measure space, and they glanced along the sights 
 
 3 2 4
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 of their rifles as though they were looking through 
 the lens of a transit, and at each report their faces 
 grew more earnest and their lips pressed tighter 
 together. One of them lowered his gun to light 
 a cigarette, and Langham handed him his match 
 box, with a certain feeling of repugnance. 
 
 "Better get under cover, Mr. Langham," the 
 man said, kindly. "There s no use our keeping 
 your mines for you if you re not alive to enjoy 
 them. Take a shot at that crew around the gun." 
 
 "I don t like this long range business," Lang- 
 ham answered. "I am going down to join Clay. 
 I don t like the idea of hitting a man when he 
 isn t looking at you." 
 
 The engineer gave an incredulous laugh. 
 
 "If he isn t looking at you, he s aiming at the 
 man next to you. Live and let Live doesn t 
 apply at present." 
 
 As Langham reached Clay s side triumphant 
 shouts arose from the roof-tops, and the men 
 posted there stood up and showed themselves above 
 the barricades and called to Clay that the cannon 
 were deserted. 
 
 Kirkland had come prepared for the barricade, 
 and, running across the street, fastened a dyna 
 mite cartridge to each gate post and lit the fuses. 
 The soldiers scattered before him as he came leap 
 ing back, and in an instant later there was a rack- 
 
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 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 ing roar, and the gates were pitched out of their 
 sockets and thrown forward, and those in the 
 street swept across them and surrounded the can 
 non. 
 
 Langham caught it by the throat as though it 
 were human, and did not feel the hot metal burn 
 ing the palms of his hands as he choked it and 
 pointed its muzzle toward the Palace, while the 
 others dragged at the spokes of the wheel. It 
 was fighting at close range now, close enough to 
 suit even Langham. He found himself in the 
 front rank of it without knowing exactly how he 
 got there. Every man on both sides was playing 
 his own hand, and seemed to know exactly what 
 to do. He felt neglected and very much alone, 
 and was somewhat anxious lest his valor might 
 be wasted through his not knowing how to put it 
 to account. He saw the enemy in changing groups 
 of scowling men, who seemed to eye him for an 
 instant down the length of a gun-barrel and then 
 disappear behind a puff of smoke. He kept think 
 ing that war made men take strange liberties with 
 their fellow-men, and it struck him as being most 
 absurd that strangers should stand up and try to 
 kill one another, men who had so little in common 
 that they did not even know one another s names. 
 The soldiers who were fighting on his own side 
 were equally unknown to him, and he looked in 
 
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 vain for Clay. He saw MacWilliams for a mo 
 ment through the smoke, jabbing at a jammed 
 cartridge with his pen-knife, and hacking the lead 
 away to make it slip. He was remonstrating with 
 the gun and swearing at it exactly as though it 
 were human, and as Langham ran toward him 
 he threw it away and caught up another from the 
 ground. Kneeling beside the wounded man who 
 had dropped it and picking the cartridges from 
 his belt, he assured him cheerfully that he was not 
 so badly hurt as he thought. 
 
 "You all right?" Langham asked. 
 
 "I m all right. I m trying to get a little laddie 
 hiding behind that blue silk sofa over there. He s 
 taken an unnatural dislike to me, and he s nearly 
 got me three times. I m knocking horse-hair out 
 of his rampart, though." 
 
 The men of Stuart s body-guard were fighting 
 outside of the breastworks and mattresses. They 
 were using their swords as though they were ma 
 chetes, and the Irishmen were swinging their guns 
 around their shoulders like sledge-hammers, and 
 beating their foes over the head and breast. The 
 guns at his own side sounded close at Langham s 
 ear, and deafened him, and those of the enemy 
 exploded so near to his face that he was kept 
 continually winking and dodging, as though he 
 were being taken by a flash-light photograph. 
 
 327
 
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 When he fired he aimed where the mass was thick 
 est, so that he might not see what his bullet did, 
 but he remembered afterward that he always re 
 loaded with the most anxious swiftness in order 
 that he might not be killed before he had had an 
 other shot, and that the idea of being killed was 
 of no concern to him except on that account. Then 
 the scene before him changed, and apparently hun 
 dreds of Mendoza s soldiers poured out from the 
 Palace and swept down upon him, cheering as they 
 came, and he felt himself falling back naturally 
 and as a matter of course, as he would have stepped 
 out of the way of a locomotive, or a runaway 
 horse, or any other unreasoning thing. His shoul 
 ders pushed against a mass of shouting, sweating 
 men, who in turn pressed back upon others, until 
 the mass reached the iron fence and could move 
 no farther. He heard Clay s voice shouting to 
 them, and saw him run forward, shooting rapidly 
 as he ran, and he followed him, even though his 
 reason told him it was a useless thing to do, and 
 then there came a great shout from the rear of 
 the Palace, and more soldiers, dressed exactly like 
 the others, rushed through the great doors and 
 swarmed around the two wings of the building, 
 and he recognized them as Rojas s men and knew 
 that the fight was over. 
 
 He saw a tall man with a negro s face spring 
 3-28
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 out of the first mass of soldiers and shout to them 
 to follow him. Clay gave a yell of welcome and 
 ran at him, calling upon him in Spanish to sur 
 render. The negro stopped and stood at bay, 
 glaring at Clay and at the circle of soldiers clos 
 ing in around him. He raised his revolver and 
 pointed it steadily. It was as though the man 
 knew he had only a moment to live, and meant 
 to do that one thing well in the short time left 
 him. 
 
 Clay sprang to one side and ran toward him, 
 dodging to the right and left, but Mendoza fol 
 lowed his movements carefully with his revolver. 
 
 It lasted but an instant. Then the Spaniard 
 threw his arm suddenly across his face, drove the 
 heel of his boot into the turf, and spinning about 
 on it fell forward. 
 
 "If he was shot where his sash crosses his heart, 
 I know the man who did it," Langham heard a 
 voice say at his elbow, and turning saw MacWil- 
 liams wetting his fingers at his lips and touching 
 them gingerly to the heated barrel of his Win 
 chester. 
 
 The death of Mendoza left his followers with 
 out a leader and without a cause. They threw 
 their muskets on the ground and held their hands 
 above their heads, shrieking for mercy. Clay and 
 his officers answered them instantly by running 
 
 3 2 9
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 from one group to another, knocking up tbe bar 
 rels of the rifles and calling hoarsely to the men 
 on the roofs to cease firing, and as they were 
 obeyed the noise of the last few random shots was 
 drowned in tumultuous cheering and shouts of ex 
 ultation, that, starting in the gardens, were caught 
 up by those in the streets and passed on quickly 
 as a line of flame along the swaying house 
 tops. 
 
 The native officers sprang upon Clay and em 
 braced him after their fashion, hailing him as the 
 Liberator of Olancho, as the Preserver of the Con 
 stitution, and their brother patriot. Then one of 
 them climbed to the top of a gilt and marble table 
 and proclaimed him military President. 
 
 "You ll proclaim yourself an idiot, if you don t 
 get down from there," Clay said, laughing. "I 
 thank you for permitting me to serve with you, 
 gentlemen. I shall have great pleasure in telling 
 our President how well you acquitted yourself in 
 this row battle, I mean. And now I would sug 
 gest that you store the prisoners weapons in the 
 Palace and put a guard over them, and then con 
 duct the men themselves to the military prison, 
 where you can release General Rojas and escort 
 him back to the city in a triumphal procession. 
 You d like that, wouldn t you?" 
 
 But the natives protested that that honor was 
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 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 for him alone. Clay declined it, pleading that 
 he must look after his wounded. 
 
 "I can hardly believe there are any dead," he 
 said to Kirkland. "For, if it takes two thousand 
 bullets to kill a man in European warfare, it must 
 require about two hundred thousand to kill a man 
 in South America." 
 
 He told Kirkland to march his men back to 
 the mines and to see that there were no strag 
 glers. "If they want to celebrate, let them cele 
 brate when they get to the mines, but not here. 
 They have made a good record to-day and I won t 
 have it spoiled by rioting. They shall have their 
 reward later. Between Rojas and Mr. Langham 
 they should all be rich men." 
 
 The cheering from the housetops since the firing 
 ceased had changed suddenly into hand-clappings, 
 and the cries, though still undistinguishable, were 
 of a different sound. Clay saw that the Ameri 
 cans on the balconies of the club and of the theatre 
 had thrown themselves far over the railings and 
 were all looking in the same direction and waving 
 their hats and cheering loudly, and he heard above 
 the shouts of the people the regular tramp of men s 
 feet marching in step, and the rattle of a machine 
 gun as it bumped and shook over the rough stones. 
 He gave a shout of pleasure, and Kirkland and 
 the two boys ran with him up the slope, crowding
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 each other to get a better view. The mob parted 
 at the Palace gates, and they saw two lines of blue 
 jackets, spread out like the sticks of a fan, drag 
 ging the gun between them, the middies in their 
 tight-buttoned tunics and gaiters, and behind them 
 more blue-jackets with bare, bronzed throats, and 
 with the swagger and roll of the sea in their legs 
 and shoulders. An American flag floated above 
 the white helmets of the marines. Its presence 
 and the sense of pride which the sight of these 
 men from home awoke in them made the fight just 
 over seem mean and petty, and they took off their 
 hats and cheered with the others. 
 
 A first lieutenant, who felt his importance and 
 also a sense of disappointment at having arrived 
 too late to see the fighting, left his men at the 
 gate of the Palace, and advanced up the terrace, 
 stopping to ask for information as he came. Each 
 group to which he addressed himself pointed to 
 Clay. The sight of his own flag had reminded 
 Clay that the banner of Mendoza still hung from 
 the mast beside which he was standing, and as the 
 officer approached he was busily engaged in un 
 twisting its halyards and pulling it down. 
 
 The lieutenant saluted him doubtfully. 
 
 "Can you tell me who is in command here?" 
 he asked. He spoke somewhat sharply, for Clay 
 was not a military looking personage, covered as 
 
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 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 he was with dust and perspiration, and with his 
 sombrero on the back of his head. 
 
 "Our Consul here told us at the landing-place, * 
 continued the lieutenant in an aggrieved tone, "that 
 a General Mendoza was in power, and that I had 
 better report to him, and then ten minutes later 
 I hear that he is dead and that a General Rojas 
 is President, but that a man named Clay has made 
 himself Dictator. My instructions are to recog 
 nize no belligerents, but to report to the Gov 
 ernment party. Now, who is the Government 
 party?" 
 
 Clay brought the red-barred flag down with a 
 jerk, and ripped it free from the halyards. Kirk- 
 land and the two boys were watching him with 
 amused smiles. 
 
 "I appreciate your difficulty," he said. "Presi 
 dent Alvarez is dead, and General Mendoza, who 
 tried to make himself Dictator, is also dead, and 
 the real President, General Rojas, is still in jail. 
 So at present I suppose that I represent the Gov 
 ernment party, at least I am the man named Clay. 
 It hadn t occurred to me before, but, until Rojas 
 is free, I guess I am the Dictator of Olancho. 
 Is Madame Alvarez on board your ship?" 
 
 "Yes, she is with us," the officer replied, in some 
 confusion. "Excuse me are you the three gen 
 tlemen who took her to the yacht? I am afraid 
 
 333
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 I spoke rather hastily just now, but you are not 
 in uniform, and the Government seems to change 
 so quickly down here that a stranger finds it hard 
 to keep up with it" 
 
 Six of the native officers had approached as the 
 lieutenant was speaking and saluted Clay gravely. 
 "We have followed your instructions," one of 
 them said, "and the regiments are ready to march 
 with the prisoners. Have you any further orders 
 for us can we deliver any messages to General 
 Rojas?" 
 
 "Present my congratulations to General Rojas, 
 and best wishes," said Clay. "And tell him for 
 me, that it would please me greatly if he would 
 liberate an American citizen named Burke, who 
 is at present in the cuartel. And that I wish him 
 to promote all of you gentlemen one grade and 
 give each of you the Star of Olancho. Tell him 
 that in my opinion you have deserved even higher 
 reward and honor at his hands." 
 
 The boy-lieutenants broke out into a chorus of 
 delighted thanks. They assured Clay that he was 
 most gracious; that he overwhelmed them, and 
 that it was honor enough for them that they had 
 served under him. But Clay laughed, and drove 
 them off with a paternal wave of the hand. 
 
 The officer from the man-of-war listened with 
 an uncomfortable sense of having blundered in his 
 
 334
 
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 manner toward this powder-splashed young man 
 who set American citizens at liberty, and created 
 captains by the half-dozen at a time. 
 
 "Are you from the States?" he asked as they 
 moved toward the man-of-war s men. 
 
 "I am, thank God. Why not?" 
 
 "I thought you were, but you saluted like an 
 Englishman." 
 
 "I was an officer in the English army once in 
 the Soudan, when they were short of officers." 
 Clay shook his head and looked wistfully at the 
 ranks of the blue-jackets drawn up on either side 
 of them. The horses had been brought out and 
 Langham and MacWilliams were waiting for him 
 to mount. "I have worn several uniforms since 
 I was a boy," said Clay. "But never that of my 
 own country." 
 
 The people were cheering him from every part 
 of the square. Women waved their hands from 
 balconies and housetops, and men climbed to awn 
 ings and lampposts and shouted his name. The 
 officers and men of the landing party took note 
 of him and of this reception out of the corner of 
 their eyes, and wondered. 
 
 "And what had I better do?" asked the com 
 manding officer. 
 
 "Oh, I would police the Palace grounds, if I 
 were you, and picket that street at the right, where 
 
 335
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 there are so many wine shops, and preserve order 
 generally until Rojas gets here. He won t be 
 more than an hour, now. We shall be coming 
 over to pay our respects to your captain to-mor 
 row. Glad to have met you." 
 
 "Well, I m glad to have met you," answered 
 the officer, heartily. "Hold on a minute. Even 
 if you haven t worn our uniform, you re as good, 
 and better, than some I ve seen that have, and 
 you re a sort of a commander-in-chief, anyway, 
 and I m damned if I don t give you a sort of 
 salute." 
 
 Clay laughed like a boy as he swung himself 
 into the saddle. The officer stepped back and 
 gave the command; the middies raised their swords 
 and Clay passed between massed rows of his coun 
 trymen with their muskets held rigidly toward 
 him. The housetops rocked again at the sight, 
 and as he rode out into the brilliant sunshine, his 
 eyes were wet and winking. 
 
 The two boys had drawn up at his side, but 
 MacWilliams had turned in the saddle and was 
 still looking toward the Palace, with his hand 
 resting on the hindquarters of his pony. 
 
 "Look back, Clay," he said. "Take a last look 
 at it, you ll never see it after to-day. Turn again, 
 turn again, Dictator of Olancho." 
 
 The men laughed and drew rein as he bade 
 336
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 them, and looked back up the narrow street. They 
 saw the green and white flag of Olancho creep 
 ing to the top of the mast before the Palace, the 
 blue-jackets driving back the crowd, the gashes in 
 the walls of the houses, where Mendoza s cannon- 
 balls had dug their way through the stucco, and 
 the silk curtains, riddled with bullets, flapping 
 from the balconies of the opera-house. 
 
 "You had it all your own way an hour ago," 
 MacWilliams said, mockingly. "You could have 
 sent Rojas into exile, and made us all Cabinet 
 Ministers and you gave it up for a girl. Now, 
 you re Dictator of Olancho. What will you be 
 to-morrow? To-morrow you will be Andrew 
 Langham s son-in-law Benedict, the married 
 man. Andrew Langham s son-in-law cannot ask 
 his wife to live in such a hole as this, so Good 
 bye, Mr. Clay. We have been long together." 
 
 Clay and Langham looked curiously at the boy 
 to see if he were in earnest, but MacWilliams 
 would not meet their eyes. 
 
 "There were three of us," he said, "and one got 
 shot, and one got married, and the third ? You 
 will grow fat, Clay, and live on Fifth Avenue and 
 wear a high silk hat, and some day when you re 
 sitting in your club you ll read a paragraph in a 
 newspaper with a queer Spanish date-line to it, 
 and this will all come back to you, this heat, and 
 
 337
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 the palms, and the fever, and the days when you 
 lived on plantains and we watched our trestles 
 grow out across the canons, and you ll be willing 
 to give your hand to sleep in a hammock again, 
 and to feel the sweat running down your back, and 
 you ll want to chuck your gun up against your chin 
 and shoot into a line of men, and the policemen 
 won t let you, and your wife won t let you. That s 
 what you re giving up. There it is. Take a good 
 look at it. You ll never see it again."
 
 XV 
 
 THE steamer "Santiago," carrying "passen 
 gers, bullion, and coffee," was headed to 
 pass Porto Rico by midnight, when she would be 
 free of land until she anchored at the quarantine 
 station of the green hills of Staten Island. She 
 had not yet shaken off the contamination of the 
 earth; a soft inland breeze still tantalized her with 
 odors of tree and soil, the smell of the fresh coat 
 of paint that had followed her coaling rose from 
 her sides, and the odor of spilt coffee-grains that 
 hung around the hatches had yet to be blown away 
 by a jealous ocean breeze, or washed by a welcom 
 ing cross sea. 
 
 The captain stopped at the open entrance of 
 the Social Hall. "If any of you ladies want to 
 take your last look at Olancho you ve got to come 
 now," he said. "We ll lose the Valencia light in 
 the next quarter hour." 
 
 Miss Langham and King looked up from their 
 novels and smiled, and Miss Langham shook her 
 head. "I ve taken three final farewells of Olan 
 cho already," she said: "before we went down to 
 
 339
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 dinner, and when the sun set, and when the moon 
 rose. I have no more sentiment left to draw on. 
 Do you want to go?" she asked. 
 
 "I m very comfortable, thank you," King said, 
 and returned to the consideration of his novel. 
 
 But Clay and Hope arose at the captain s sug 
 gestion with suspicious alacrity, and stepped out 
 upon the empty deck, and into the encompassing 
 darkness, with a little sigh of relief. 
 
 Alice Langham looked after them somewhat 
 wistfully and bit the edges of her book. She sat 
 for some time with her brows knitted, glancing oc 
 casionally and critically toward King and up with 
 unseeing eyes at the swinging lamps of the saloon. 
 He caught her looking at him once when he raised 
 his eyes as he turned a page, and smiled back at 
 her, and she nodded pleasantly and bent her head 
 over her reading. She assured herself that after 
 all King understood her and she him, and that 
 if they never rose to certain heights, they never 
 sank below a high level of mutual esteem, and 
 that perhaps was the best in the end. 
 
 King had placed his yacht at the disposal of 
 Madame Alvarez, and she had sailed to Colon, 
 where she could change to the steamers for Lis 
 bon, while he accompanied the Langhams and the 
 wedding party to New York. 
 
 Clay recognized that the time had now arrived 
 340
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 in his life when he could graduate from the posi 
 tion of manager-director and become the engineer 
 ing expert, and that his services in Olancho were 
 no longer needed. 
 
 With Rojas in power Mr. Langham had noth 
 ing further to fear from the Government, and 
 with Kirkland in charge and young Langham re 
 turning after a few months absence to resume his 
 work, he felt himself free to enjoy his holiday. 
 
 They had taken the first steamer out, and the 
 combined efforts of all had been necessary to pre 
 vail upon MacWilliams to accompany them; and 
 even now the fact that he was to act as Clay s 
 best man and, as Langham assured him cheerfully, 
 was to wear a frock coat and see his name in all 
 the papers, brought on such sudden panics of fear 
 that the fast-fading coast line filled his soul with 
 regret, and a wilful desire to jump overboard and 
 swim back. 
 
 Clay and Hope stopped at the door of the chief 
 engineer s cabin and said they had come to pay 
 him a visit. The chief had but just come from 
 the depths where the contamination of the earth 
 was most evident in the condition of his stokers; 
 but his chin was now cleanly shaven, and his pipe 
 was drawing as well as his engine fires, and he 
 had wrapped himself in an old P. & O. white duck 
 jacket to show what he had been before he sank 
 
 34i
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 to the level of a coasting steamer. They admired 
 the clerk-like neatness of the report he had just 
 finished, and in return he promised them the fast 
 est run on record, and showed them the portrait 
 of his wife, and of their tiny cottage on the Isle 
 of Wight, and his jade idols from Corea, and 
 carved cocoanut gourds from Brazil, and a picture 
 from the "Graphic" of Lord Salisbury, tacked to 
 the partition and looking delightedly down be 
 tween two highly colored lithographs of Miss El 
 len Terry and the Princess May. 
 
 Then they called upon the captain, and Clay 
 asked him why captains always hung so much lace 
 about their beds when they invariably slept on a 
 red velvet sofa with their boots on, and the cap 
 tain ordered his Chinese steward to mix them a 
 queer drink and offered them the choice of a six 
 months accumulation of paper novels, and free 
 admittance to his bridge at all hours. And then 
 they passed on to the door of the smoking-room 
 and beckoned MacWilliams to come out and join 
 them. His manner as he did so bristled with im 
 portance, and he drew them eagerly to the rail. 
 
 "I ve just been having a chat with Captain 
 Burke," he said, in an undertone. "He s been 
 telling Langham and me about a new game that s 
 better than running railroads. He says there s a 
 country called Macedonia that s got a native prince 
 
 342
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 who wants to be free from Turkey, and the Turks 
 won t let him, and Burke says if we ll each put 
 up a thousand dollars, he ll guarantee to get the 
 prince free in six months. He s made an estimate 
 of the cost and submitted it to the Russian Em 
 bassy at Washington, and he says they will help 
 him secretly, and he knows a man who has just 
 patented a new rifle, and who will supply him with 
 a thousand of them for the sake of the advertise 
 ment. He says it s a mountainous country, and 
 all you have to do is to stand on the passes and 
 roll rocks down on the Turks as they come in. 
 It sounds easy, doesn t it?" 
 
 "Then you re thinking of turning professional 
 filibuster yourself?" said Clay. 
 
 "Well, I don t know. It sounds more interest 
 ing than engineering. Burke says I beat him on 
 this last fight, and he d like to have me with him 
 in the next one sort of young-blood-in-the-firm 
 idea and he calculates that we can go about set 
 ting people free and upsetting governments for 
 some time to come. He says there is always some 
 thing to fight about if you look for it. And I 
 must say the condition of those poor Macedonians 
 does appeal to me. Think of them all alone down 
 there bullied by that Sultan of Turkey, and want 
 ing to be free and independent. That s not right. 
 You, as an American citizen, ought to be the last 
 
 343
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 person in the world to throw cold water on an 
 undertaking like that. In the name of Liberty 
 now?" 
 
 "I don t object; set them free, of course," 
 laughed Clay. "But how long have you enter 
 tained this feeling for the enslaved Macedonians, 
 Mac?" 
 
 "Well, I never heard of them until a quarter 
 of an hour ago, but they oughtn t to suffer through 
 my ignorance." 
 
 "Certainly not. Let me know when you re 
 going to do it, and Hope and I will run over and 
 look on. I should like to see you and Burke and 
 the Prince of Macedonia rolling rocks down on 
 the Turkish Empire." 
 
 Hope and Clay passed on up the deck laughing, 
 and MacWilliams looked after them with a fond 
 and paternal smile. The lamp in the wheelhouse 
 threw a broad belt of light across the forward 
 deck as they passed through it into the darkness 
 of the bow, where the lonely lookout turned and 
 stared at them suspiciously, and then resumed his 
 stern watch over the great waters. 
 
 They leaned upon the rail and breathed the 
 soft air which the rush of the steamer threw in 
 their faces, and studied in silence the stars that 
 lay so low upon the horizon line that they looked 
 like the harbor lights of a great city. 
 
 344
 
 " Over there is the coast of Africa."
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 "Do you see that long line of lamps off our 
 port bow?" asked Clay. 
 
 Hope nodded. 
 
 "Those are the electric lights along the ocean 
 drive at Long Branch and up the Rumson Road, 
 and those two stars a little higher up are fixed 
 to the mast-heads of the Scotland Lightship. And 
 that mass of light that you think is the Milky 
 Way, is the glare of the New York street lamps 
 thrown up against the sky." 
 
 "Are we so near as that?" said Hope, smiling. 
 "And what lies over there?" she asked, pointing 
 to the east. 
 
 "Over "there is the coast of Africa. Don t you 
 see the lighthouse on Cape Bon? If it wasn t for 
 Gibraltar being in the way, I could show you the 
 harbor lights of Bizerta, and the terraces of Al 
 giers shining like a cafe chantant in the night." 
 
 "Algiers," sighed Hope, "where you were a 
 soldier of Africa, and rode across the deserts. 
 Will you take me there?" 
 
 "There, of course, but to Gibraltar first, where 
 we will drive along the Alameda by moonlight. 
 I drove there once coming home from a mess 
 dinner with the Colonel. The drive lies between 
 broad white balustrades, and the moon shone down 
 on us between the leaves of the Spanish bayonet. 
 It was like an Italian garden. But he did not see 
 
 345
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 it, and he would talk to me about the Watkins 
 range finder on the lower ramparts, and he puffed 
 on a huge cigar. I tried to imagine I was there 
 on my honeymoon, but the end of his cigar would 
 light up and I would see his white mustache and 
 the glow on his red jacket, so I vowed I would 
 go over that drive again with the proper person. 
 And we won t talk of range finders, will we? 
 
 "There to the North is Paris; your Paris, and 
 my Paris, with London only eight hours away. 
 If you look very closely, you can see the thousands 
 of hansom cab lamps flashing across the asphalt, 
 and the open theatres, and the fair) 7 lamps in the 
 gardens back of the houses in Mayfair, where 
 they are giving dances in your honor, in honor 
 of the beautiful American bride, whom every one 
 wants to meet. And you will wear the finest tiara 
 we can get on Bond Street, but no one will look 
 at it; they will only look at you. And I will feel 
 very miserable and tease you to come home." 
 
 Hope put her hand in his, and he held her fin 
 ger-tips to his lips for an instant and closed his 
 other hand upon hers. 
 
 "And after that?" asked Hope. 
 
 "After that we will go to work again, and take 
 long journeys to Mexico and Peru or wherever 
 they want me, and I will sit in judgment on the 
 work other chaps have done. And when we get 
 
 346
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 back to our car at night, or to the section house, 
 for it will be very rough sometimes," Hope 
 pressed his hand gently in answer, "I will tell 
 you privately how very differently your husband 
 would have done it, and you, knowing all about 
 it, will say that had it been left to me, I would 
 certainly have accomplished it in a vastly superior 
 manner." 
 
 "Well, so you would," said Hope, calmly. 
 
 "That s what I said you d say," laughed Clay. 
 "Dearest," he begged, "promise me something. 
 Promise me that you are going to be very happy." 
 
 Hope raised her eyes and looked up at him in 
 silence, and had the man in the wheelhouse been 
 watching the stars, as he should have been, no 
 one but the two foolish young people on the bow 
 of the boat would have known her answer. 
 
 The ship s bell sounded eight times, and Hope 
 moved slightly. 
 
 "So late as that," she sighed. "Come. We 
 must be going back." 
 
 A great wave struck the ship s side a friendly 
 slap, and the wind caught up the spray and tossed 
 it in their eyes, and blew a strand of her hair 
 loose so that it fell across Clay s face, and they 
 laughed happily together as she drew it back and 
 he took her hand again to steady her progress 
 across the slanting deck. 
 
 347
 
 Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 As they passed hand in hand out of the shadow 
 into the light from the wheelhouse, the lookout 
 in the bow counted the strokes of the bell to him 
 self, and then turned and shouted back his meas 
 ured cry to the bridge above them. His voice 
 seemed to be a part of the murmuring sea and the 
 welcoming winds. 
 
 "Listen," said Clay. 
 
 "Eight bells," the voice sang from the dark 
 ness. "The for ard light s shining bright and 
 all s well." 
 
 348
 
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