The mutterings of the old man were interrupted by a loud rap
at his rickety door.

"Come in!" called the old smuggler.

The door opened, and a roughly dressed man strode into the
cabin.

"Hello, Pearce! I see you are here to meet me."

"Yes, Mr. Garcia, I'm waiting for you."

Mr. Garcia took a seat by the table opposite the old smuggler,
and saw the latter crumple the letter, and put it in his
pocket.

"Eh, old man, what's that your hiding?"

"Nothing that will interest you, sir; it's only an old
letter from my dead wife, sent to me many years ago
when she was visiting some of her friends over in
Connecticut."

"How about this Government officer who has been prowling
around here?" was the next question which fell from Garcia's
lips.

"Well, that's more than I can tell you, but he'll be fixed
to-night, whoever he is! Yes, sir, he'll not cause the lads
any trouble, they've 'tumbled' to him! too soon."