reach of "sand jiggers" and the surf, which at high tide ran up the
beach, under and beyond it. Inside it was rude and bare, and the heat
and the smell of the harbor, and of the swamp on which the town was
built, passed freely through the open doors.

Aiken proceeded to play the host in a most cordial manner. He placed
my trunk in the room I was to occupy, and set out some very strong
Honduran cigars and a bottle of Jamaica rum. While he did this he
began to grumble over the loss of his sewing-machines, and to swear
picturesquely at Captain Leeds, bragging of the awful things he meant
to do to him. But when he had tasted his drink and lighted a cigar,
his good-humor returned, and he gave his attention to me.

"Now then, young one," he asked, in a tone of the utmost familiarity,
"what's your trouble?"

I explained that I could not help but hear what the Captain shouted at
him from the Panama, and I asked if it was contrary to the law of
Honduras for one to communicate with the officer Captain Leeds had
mentioned--General Laguerre.

"The old man, hey?" Aiken exclaimed and stared at me apparently with
increased interest. "Well, there are some people who might prevent
your getting to him," he answered, diplomatically. For a moment he
sipped his rum and water, while he examined me from over the top of
the cup. Then he winked and smiled.

"Come now," he said, encouragingly. "Speak up. What's the game? You
can trust me. You're an agent for Collins, or the Winchester Arms
people, aren't you?"