s he crossed the square. He liked
the music, and there was something interesting and exotic in the play of
moving color, but his mind was on his work and he wondered whether he
would find a man he wanted at the hotel. One could enter it by a Moorish
arch that harmonized with the Eastern style of its front; but this had
been added, and he went in by the older tunnel and across the patio to
the open-fronted American bar that occupied a space between the balcony
pillars.

He did not find his man, and after ordering some wine, lighted a
cigarette and looked about while he waited to see if the fellow would
come in. One or two steamship officers occupied a table close by, a
Frenchman was talking excitedly to a handsome Spanish half-breed, and a
fat, red-faced German with spectacles sat opposite a big glass of
pale-colored beer. Dick was not interested in these, but his glance grew
keener as it rested on a Spaniard, who had a contract at the irrigation
works, sitting with one of Fuller's storekeepers at the other end of the
room. Though there was no reason the Spaniard should not meet the man in
town, Dick wondered what they were talking about, particularly since they
had chosen a table away from everybody else.

The man he wanted did not come, and by and by he determined to look for
him in the hotel. He went up an outside staircase from the patio, round
which the building ran, and had reached a balcony when he met Ida Fuller
coming down. She stopped with a smile.

"I am rather glad to see you," she said. "My father, who went on board
the American boat, has not come back as he promised, and the French lady
he left me with has gone."

"I'm going off to a cargo vessel to ask when they'll land our cement, and
we might find out what is keeping Mr. Fuller, if you don't mind walking
to the mole."

They left the hotel and shortly afterwards reached the mole, which
sheltered the shallow harbor where the cargo lighters were unloaded. The
long, smooth swell broke in flashes of green and gold phosphorescence
against the concrete wall, and the moon threw a broad, glittering track
across the sea. There was a rattle of cranes and winches and a noisy tug
was towing a row of barges towards the land. The measured thud of her
engines broke through the splash of water flung off the lighters' bows as
they lurched across the swell, and somebody on board was singing a
Spanish song. Farther out, a mailboat's gently swaying hull blazed with
ele