``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 carriage 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 carriage.

``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
be able to get back to the city before five to-morrow 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.''