unfeelingly on all my ideals and illusions.

"No," he went on. "He came here on his yacht on a pleasure trip around
the West India Islands, and he rode in from here to look over the
Copan Silver Mines. Alvarez is terribly keen to get rid of him. He's
afraid the revolutionists will catch him and hold him for ransom. He'd
bring a good price," Aiken added, reflectively. "It's enough to make a
man turn brigand. And his daughter, too. She'd bring a good price."

"His daughter!" I exclaimed.

Aiken squeezed the tips of his fingers together, and kissed them,
tossing the imaginary kiss up toward the roof. Then he drank what was
left of his rum and water at a gulp and lifted the empty glass high in
the air. "To the daughter," he said.

It was no concern of mine, but I resented his actions exceedingly. I
think I was annoyed that he should have seen the young lady while I
had not. I also resented his toasting her before a stranger. I knew he
could not have met her, and his pretence of enthusiasm made him appear
quite ridiculous. He looked at me mournfully, shaking his head as
though it were impossible for him to give me an idea of her.

"Why they say," he exclaimed, "that when she rides along the trail,
the native women kneel beside it.

"She's the best looking girl I ever saw," he declared, "and she's a
thoroughbred too!" he added, "or she wouldn't have stuck it out in
this country when she had a clean yacht to fall back on. She's been
riding around on a mule, so they tell me, along with her father and