and if one were looking for a friend or
acquaintance, he was usually to be found there. The hall was spacious
and well lighted with electricity and resplendent in gilt and mirrors.

The gay strains of a string band enlivened the scene as he entered.
Clouds of tobacco smoke hung over the throngs that crowded round the
gaming-tables to try their luck with the Goddess Chance.

Jose was playing roulette, and judging by the satisfied expression of
his face which the Captain noted in passing, he rightly conjectured that
luck was on his side.

Like Carlos, Pedro had taken a great fancy to the Captain, and had
generously placed his private stock of wines and cigars at the latter's
disposal. Many an evening had the three passed together smoking and
drinking and chatting; Pedro and Carlos listening with rapt attention to
the Captain's anecdotes and adventures of which he seemed to possess an
inexhaustible store. The hall was greatly overcrowded, rendering it
difficult to find an acquaintance, but as the Captain paused in the
midst of the tables in order to obtain a better view of the faces about
him, he felt a touch on the shoulder from behind and turning, saw Pedro,
the object of his search.

"_Por Dios!_ but I'm glad to see you again, _amigo_!" exclaimed the
proprietor, a dark little man with a kindly face pitted by the smallpox.
He grasped and shook the Captain warmly by the hand.

"How are you--when did you return?" he inquired; leading him to a table
in one corner of the hall around which were seated a number of his
friends who, on the appearance of the Captain, rose and greeted him
effusively.

"_Mozo--mozo!_" shouted Pedro to the waiter, "a glass for the Captain!"

The others also had been to the theater, and like him, had left during
the intermission following the dance. Naturally the dancer formed the
sole topic of conversation.

"Had the Senor _Capitan_ seen the Chiquita--had he ever seen such
dancing before--what did he think of her?" And by the time Carlos
appeared on the scene, all agreed that the latter's fortune was
made--that he would soon desert the sleepy old town for a tour of the
world with his newly found star of the footlights.

"A tour of the world--with the Chiquita?" echoed Carlos, a fat,
broad-shouldered little man of mixed blood, pausing and pulling back a
chair in the act of seating himself at the table.

"_Dios!_ if such a thing were possible," he exclaimed, pushing his hat
on the back of