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The cold-blooded blackguardliness of Davis almost shocked him for a moment—making a girl love him like that just to use her as a spy on her family! The upright man in the soul of Billy Harman, the upright man who had never yet managed somehow to get on his feet, humped his back and tried to rise, but he had half a million dollars on top of him. He moved in his chair uneasily, and refilled his pipe. But all he said was: “Tell us about them gold bars.”

Davis told. A peon runner had come in that afternoon with a chit for Pereira saying that the mules, eight in number, bearing the stuff, would reach Buenodiaz by night-time of the following day.

“The stuff will be shipped to-morrow night, then?” said Harman.

“Well, you don’t think they’d go leaving it on the beach,” replied Davis.

“Didn’t you get out of her what ship they were taking it off on?” asked Harman.

“No,” said Davis, “I didn’t, she don’t know herself, but she’s going to find out.”

“Bud,” said Harman, “give us the straight tip, I’m not wantin’ to prod into your ‘amoors,’ but how far have you nobbled her into this business?”