"Our plan, it is simple," he continued with animation in spite of
his foreign accent. "On this island a plant to print paper money, to
coin silver. With that we shall land, pay our men as they flock to
us, collect forces, seize cities, appropriate the customs. Once we
start, it is easy."

Constance looked up quickly. "But that is counterfeiting," she
exclaimed.

"No," rejoined Santos, "it is a war measure. We--the provisional
government--merely coin our own money. Besides, it will not be done
in this country. It will not come under your laws."

There was a magnetism about the man that fascinated her, as he stood
watching the effect of his words. Instinctively she knew that it was
not alone enthusiasm over his scheme that inspired his confidences.

"Though we are not counterfeiters," he went on, "we do not know what
moment our opponents may set your Secret Service to destroy all our
hopes. Besides, we must have money--now--to buy machinery, arms,
ammunition. We must find some one," he lowered his voice, "who can
persuade American bankers and merchants to take risks to gain
valuable concessions in the new state."

Santos was talking rapidly and earnestly, urging his case on her.

"We are prepared," he hurried on confidentially, "to give you,
Senora, half the money that you can raise for these purposes."

He paused and stood before her. He was certainly a handsome figure,