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Updated: June 9, 2025
All was very quiet; there was nobody in the patio, and it was some distance to the nearest window in the wall that faced the pillars. For all that, he lowered his voice and answered in hesitating English with an American accent. "It is hard to tell; a gamble in which one takes steep chances! Perhaps half the people with an object are for Galdar, and half for me.
I will be rash and tell you that Galdar shall not have the goods I brought." Franciscans eyes got soft and a touch of color crept into her olive skin. "One does not often meet a man who puts honor before money. Adios, señor! I wish you well." Then she turned to her companions, who presently left the table and soon afterwards Kit's omelette was brought.
At the other end of the patio, portly señoras with powdered faces sat among the pillars, and grave, dark-skinned citizens moved about the pavement in talking groups. A heavily-built man with a very swarthy color and thick lips went to and fro among them, bowing and smiling, and Kit knew this was Galdar, the president's rival. Kit did not like the fellow and thought his negro strain was marked.
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