p to the Delmonico standard,
but it is good and there is plenty of it."

"Well, that means there's enough of it such as it is," said the
engineer, "but I guess I can stand it if you can. Lead on, Jim."

Jim led the way around the corner, not, however, without casting a
glance back and walking for several doors past the place he had spoken
of. Then, after looking about him, he retraced his steps and entered the
restaurant, which was an unpretentious place on a side street.

"There's a table over there," he said, indicating one in the rear of the
room, "that will suit us. We can see all who come in and won't be
conspicuous ourselves."

"What's all this mystery, Jim?" asked the engineer, when they had taken
their seats and given their order.

"I have a feeling that that Mexican imp of deformity, Manuel, isn't far
away, and we can't afford to take any chances."

"You are right there, Jim," responded Berwick heartily. "That chap gives
me the shivers. He's more like a snake than a man."

"That's just it. He's so confoundedly slippery, it almost seems that you
never can get a hold on him, and if you did, what can one do with such a
miserably deformed body? Ugh!"

"One never feels easy when he's anywhere about," admitted Berwick.

Jim made no further comment, but he was evidently thinking deeply.

"The next thing to do," began Jim, when the meal had been served and the
waiter gone to attend to other duties, "is to see if we can get a
ship--"

"And follow them," put in the engineer.

"I'd like to get there ahead of them if we could."

"If we only knew where the place was."

"Oh, I know that," said Jim quietly.

"You do!" exclaimed the engineer in astonishment. "Where is it?"

"San Matteo Bay--"

"San Matteo. Where is that?"

"About seventy-five miles down the coast."

"How did you find it out?"

"Mr. Reynolds told me."

"Mr. Reynolds!" echoed the engineer, "When?"

"When we were there," replied Jim laughing at the look of astonishment
on his companion's face. "You remember that he told us that the Senor
had gone into the northern part of the State."

"But you just said that San Matteo was 'down' the coast."

"Of course," responded Jim, a trifle impatiently. "Don't you see that he
wanted me to think that he went the other way from what he did?"

"I see. Then when he said he went north--"

"It was then," broke in Jim, "that I happened to catch a glimpse of a
paper on his desk with a name on it. I w