d me to
help with."

He knew his client thoroughly.

"You're right it ain't," replied the captain with emphasis; "I made the
contract to carry the shooting irons and we are loaded ready to sail,
but the Senor's got a gal."

The lawyer looked keenly at his client.

"It's a case of kidnaping, then," remarked the lawyer with as much
unconcern as if referring to an attack of measles.

"Yer have the right idea, Mr. Reynold's," said the candid mariner; "the
gal's daddy sets a heap of store by her, and he'll pay something
handsome to git her back, more than he would for this steam yacht of
mine, twice over."

"Tell me how the land lies, Captain, then I'll give you my terms."

Captain Broome speaking in a low, growling voice, gave him the necessary
details, and then with his bushy eyebrows knitted together he watched
the other man with grim intentness. Mr. William H. Reynolds sat for some
time with his head thrown back and half-closed eyes, gazing upward at
the ceiling, and then he began to whistle softly with a slight hissing
sound.

"It's the devil in him getting up steam," mused Broome; "he sees his way
through all right."

Indeed he did, but he did not inform his valued client that he was well
acquainted with the agent of the Cuban insurgents, who had come West to
meet the Senor da Cordova, for he had no intention of belittling the
difficulty of the task assigned him.

"How much?" inquired Captain Broome, in a noncommittal voice. These two
wasted no time on formalities, they had been in too many transactions
for that. By way of reply, the lawyer held up five fingers. Immediately
the Yankee master put up three and a half by doubling his little finger,
but the attorney remained firm.

"You'll get ten thousand out of this, you old reprobate," he said
frankly, "and I take the risk. Take it or leave it, I've got some other
matters to attend to immediately."

The captain grunted, he hated to pay, especially without a long
bargaining, but he knew his friend well enough to realize that it was a
waste of valuable time, and that one might just as well try to bargain
with a graven image. Slowly he drew out a leather pouch from his
capacious pants' pocket and opening it placed--How many twenty dollar
gold pieces, Reader, to make five hundred dollars? Well, Tom, what is
it? "Fifteen." You Johnny? "Twenty-five." Quite right.

They made a brave sight piled up in the light upon the table, but they
did not stay in evidence