The Buccaneer Farmer Part 21

The shopkeeper bowed. "I will make enquiries. If you should need anything I sell, senor, perhaps you will remember that I am an honest man."

Kit went away, feeling puzzled and somewhat surprised. It looked as if the fellow was honest, but Kit thought he had studied him and there was something curious about his manner. Besides, a remark he made implied that he knew the coin was old.

When he ate his eleven o'clock breakfast with Adam and the President in the arcade, he took out the coin and told them about the shopkeeper's refusal to take it back.

"A Spanish onza," Adam remarked. "Worth nearly five pounds in English money, but a collector might give you more if it's as old as it looks.

One used to see onzas in Cuba, and native merchants in Central America, who hadn't much use for banks, liked to get them. Now, however, they're getting scarce."

"In this country, all gold coins are scarce," Alvarez said dryly. "I agree with the shopkeeper that Don Cristoval is fortunate, and expect he feels that my people are honester than he thought."

"I was puzzled--" said Kit and stopped, for he saw the president's smile and began to understand.

"You are shrewd, senor; but that was to be expected from my old friend's nephew. To begin with, the man who keeps the shop is not a supporter of the Government."

"Ah," said Kit, "I think I see!"

Alvarez bowed. "One can trust your intelligence, and you can keep the coin. It looks as if my antagonists were curious about your character--the honor of a man who would take money that does not belong to him is open to doubt. The experiment was cheap."

Kit said nothing and the president filled a little gla.s.s with scented liquor. "I know my friends, Don Cristoval, and your uncle has stood much harder tests."

He touched Kit's gla.s.s with his. "Well, I am lucky, because I may need friends soon."

He got up and when he went down the long arcade Adam looked at Kit with a smile.

"When I was your age I wouldn't have taken the onza back. I'd have kept the money and my faith with the president; in fact, in those days, I kept anything I could get. Now the other fellow knows what you're like, I reckon he'll find the owner of the coin."

Adam went off after the president, and Kit pondered. A few days later, he sat one evening at a small table outside the cafe Bolivar. The cafe was badly lighted, hot, and full of flies. There was no door or window, and a few wooden pillars divided the low room from the pavement, which was strewn with cigarette ends and cardboard matches. In front, small palms, and eucalyptus lined the dusty alameda, where groups of citizens walked up and down. Inside the cafe somebody sang a Spanish song and played a guitar. It was not cool on the pavement, although a faint breeze made the palms rustle. The air was heavy and a smell of aniseed and new rum hung about the spot.

Presently a man who had been playing dominos got up and came to Kit's table. He was a white man, with pale blue eyes and yellow hair, and although rather fat he carried himself well. Kit had met Olsen before, and he nodded when he sat down.

"Nothing doing at the casino and the place was very hot," he said.

"Besides, I don't quite trust the man who runs the bank. Taking them all round, these folks are clever crooks."

Kit agreed languidly and noted the order Olsen gave the half-breed landlord. The fellow did not look as if he indulged much, but Kit thought a large gla.s.s of the strong liquor was not often asked for. As a rule, the Americans he had met on the Caribbean coast were abstemious, while the half-breeds and Spaniards were satisfied with small _copitas_ of fiery spirits distilled from the sugar cane. The English, German, and Scandinavian adventurers consumed them freely, and perhaps the Germans drank the most.

"How do you like it here?" Olsen resumed when he put down his gla.s.s.

"It's a country that soon palls. Are you staying long?"

"I can't tell," said Kit, who decided not to state that he knew the country. "You see, I'm not in command."

"No," said Olsen. "I suppose you're a relation of the Buccaneer?"

"A poor relation. He gave me a lift when I needed it."

Olsen laughed. "Well, I guess he makes you hustle. A pretty lively old pirate, if all one hears is true! I reckon they don't call him the Buccaneer for nothing, but it's hinted that he's beginning to lose his grip. I see your copita's empty. Will you take another drink?"

"No, thanks; I've had enough," said Kit, who distrusted Olsen. He thought the fellow's careless remarks covered some curiosity and had tried to leave him in doubt. Olsen probably imagined he was Adam's clerk.

"You're cautious, but one soon gets reckless here," Olsen resumed. "We are all adventurers, out for what we can get, and the chances against our making good are pretty steep. My notion is to have the best time I can, pick up as much money as possible, and quit before fever, intrigue, or a revolution knocks me out."

"It's an exciting life," Kit agreed. "Money doesn't seem plentiful."

"You have got to hustle and back the right man. Since you're stopping at the presidio, it's obvious that Askew's on the president's side. Well, I suppose everybody knows my employers have put their money on Galdar."

"Then, I imagine you run some risk."

"Sure," said Olsen, smiling. "Alvarez doesn't like me, and if I wasn't an American citizen, I'd feel scared. Showed his secretary my naturalization papers when I put up my shingle. Took them out as soon as I reached the United States from Norway."

Kit pondered. Olsen spoke English and Castilian Well, but his accent was not American, nor, Kit thought, Scandinavian. There were a number of Germans in the country, engaged in extensive but rather dark commercial schemes, whom the United States consuls watched with jealous eyes. Kit knew that no one could transact much business without to some extent meddling with native politics, but while the other adventurers were satisfied with the money they could get, it looked as if the Germans wanted something else. It was perhaps significant that Olsen had, so to speak, insisted that he was a naturalized American and came from Norway.

Kit doubted.

"Askew's judgment is generally pretty good, but he's getting old," Olsen remarked. "I don't see why he's backing the president; my notion is, Galdar's surely going to win." He paused and looked at Kit thoughtfully.

"In fact, if I was holding a clerk's job on the other side, I'd consider if it wouldn't pay me to change."

Kit imagined this was a cautious feeler, made to find out if he could be bought, but he smiled.

"If Galdar does win, he won't have much to give his friends."

"He certainly won't have much money," Olsen agreed. "It's going to cost him all he can raise to turn Alvarez out, but he'll have something to give at the country's expense; sugar and coffee concessions, and perhaps monopolies. If I can get my share, it will pay my employers well and I allow they're generous."

He stopped, as if he thought he had said enough, and after ordering another drink looked up with a grin. Two girls in light dresses had pa.s.sed the cafe once or twice with a male companion and a fat old woman who wore black clothes. Kit had not noticed them particularly, because other groups were moving about, but he now remarked that the man had gone and the _duena_ was a yard or two in front. One of the girls looked round and he thought her glance searched the cafe and then stopped at his table.

"The senorita's a looker," said Olsen. "I wonder which of us she fancies.

She's been round this way before."

"I'm not remarkably handsome and there are other people in the cafe,"

Kit replied. "Anyhow, I don't want to get a jealous senorita's knife in my back."

"You're a blamed cautious fellow," Olsen rejoined in a meaning tone.

"However, you'll find me at the casino evenings if you feel you'd like a talk, and now I'll get along."

He went off and Kit smoked another cigarette. He thought Olsen had, so to speak, been sounding him; the fellow had certainly given him some hints.

Kit imagined he had taken a prudent line by keeping the other in the dark about his partnership with Adam and their plans.

When he had smoked his cigarette he crossed the street to the alameda and went up a broad walk beneath the trees. The sky had cleared, the moon was high, and in front of the openings pools of silver light lay upon the ground. By and by Kit saw the group he had noticed a few yards ahead.

They were moving slowly and although he walked no faster he soon came up with them. The girl who had looked into the cafe was nearest and the moonlight touched her face as she turned her head.

Kit gave her a half curious glance and felt some surprise, for he could see her better now and thought her a pure-blooded Spaniard. The _Peninsulares_ were aristocrats, the girl had a touch of dignity, and her dress was rich. It was strange if a girl like that was willing to defy conventions and risk an intrigue with a stranger. Yet he imagined he had seen her smile, and she carried a little bunch of purple flowers in the hand nearest him. He looked again and saw that she was beautiful and moved with the grace that generally marks the _Peninsulares_ when they are young. The path was broad and he could keep level with the group without exciting curiosity, but he thought it curious that the fat old woman, who ought to have guarded the others, was in front.

He resolved to go past, and just before he did so the girl gave him a glance that he thought was half amused and half provocative. Then she turned her head and next moment he saw a flower near his feet. He noted a faint smell of heliotrope and knew she had dropped the flower for him.

This meant something, although it would not have much significance unless he picked up the heliotrope. He did not, and walking past with a quicker step, heard a soft laugh.

When he reached the presidio he sat down on the balcony that overlooked the patio outside his room. There was n.o.body about and he began to muse.

It was rash to take things for granted, but he thought he had been made the subject of three experiments. Somebody had put a gold onza in the Indian jar; Olsen had tried to find out if he was ambitious; and the girl in the alameda meant to learn if he could be moved by beauty. Well, they ought to know something about him now, but they were not very clever or they would have extended their experiments over a longer time. It looked as if they thought him something of a fool, and this was, perhaps, an advantage.

Kit smiled as he remembered that when Janet Bell tried to flirt with him he had been rather humiliated and felt himself a prig. He was older now and had not been much embarra.s.sed in the alameda, although he nearly picked up the flower. His curiosity was excited and he wanted to find out the girl's object. Indeed, it was hard to see why he had left the flower alone, but he had a vague feeling that it was unfair to use a charming girl in a dark intrigue. Since he had known Grace Osborn, he had given women a higher place. For her sake, he would not try to gain an advantage against his and the president's antagonist by embarking on an adventure with the Spanish girl.

Then he began to wonder whether he would see Grace again, but presently got up with an impatient shrug. Grace, in all probability, had forgotten their friendship and married Thorn. Anyhow, she was not for him and it was futile to indulge a barren sentiment.