ot yet. He felt a depressing premonition that if
ever the treaty were to reach Washington he best had snatch it and run.
Even as he waited, the end came. An orderly, appearing suddenly in the
light of the candles, announced the arrival, in the room adjoining, of
"the Colonel Goddard and Senor Mellen." They desired an immediate
audience. Their business with the President was most urgent. Whether
from Washington their agents had warned them, whether in Camaguay they
had deciphered the cablegram from the State Department, Everett could
only guess, but he was certain the cause of their visit was the treaty.
That Mendoza also believed this was most evident.

Into the darkness, from which the two exiles might emerge, he peered
guiltily. With an oath he tore the treaty in half. Crushing the
pieces of paper into a ball, he threw it at Everett's feet. His voice
rose to a shriek. It was apparent he intended his words to carry to
the men outside. Like an actor on a stage he waved his arms.

"That is my answer!" he shouted. "Tell your Secretary the choice he
offers is an insult! It is blackmail. We will not sign his treaty. We
do not desire his visit to our country." Thrilled by his own bravado,
his voice rose higher. "Nor," he shouted, "do we desire the presence
of his representative. Your usefulness is at an end. You will receive
your passports in the morning."

As he might discharge a cook, he waved Everett away. His hand,
trembling with excitement, closed around the neck of the brandy-bottle.
Everett stooped and secured the treaty. On his return to Washington,
torn and rumpled as it was, it would be his justification. It was his
"Exhibit A."

As he approached the legation he saw drawn up in front of it three
ponies ready saddled. For an instant he wondered if Mendoza intended
further to insult him, if he planned that night to send him under guard
to the coast. He determined hotly sooner than submit to such an
indignity he would fortify the legation, and defend himself. But no
such heroics were required of him. As he reached the door, Garland,
with an exclamation of relief, hailed him, and Monica, stepping from
the shadow, laid an appealing hand upon his sleeve.

"My brother!" she exclaimed. "The guard at Cobre has just sent word
that they found Peabody prowling in the ruins and fired on him. He
fired back, and he is still there hiding. My brother and others have
gone to take him. I don't know what