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"Well," said Orme, "this is beyond me. That five-dollar bill seems to be very much desired by different groups of persons." Alcatrante nodded. "I am not sure," he said slowly, "but that it would ease young Poritol's mind if you would place the bill in my hands for safekeeping. Not that he mistrusts you, Mr.
He was interested in the minister's indirections. "As for the events of last night" continued Alcatrante, stopping short, with a significant glance. "Well?" said Orme indifferently. "I trust that you did not think me absurd for sending that detective to you. That I did so was a result of poor Poritol's frantic insistence." "Indeed?" "My young friend was so afraid that you would be robbed."
Orme: "You will, I am sure, pardon my seeming over-anxiety for your safety, and the safety of Poritol's treasure, but I cannot resist using my influence to see that you are well-protected to-night by what you in America call 'a plain-clothes man. I trust that he will frighten away the Yellow Peril and permit you to slumber undisturbed.
"You forget that there was one after me as well as one after you." "No, I don't forget that. But don't you see, Mr. Orme? Those two men were not after our valuables." "Indeed?" "Not at all. What they would like is my little friend Poritol's secret." "But why Japanese?" Orme was puzzled. "Why, indeed? A cunning Japanese might as easily have got wind of it as anyone else."
No, Alcatrante was no friend of Poritol's; nor was it likely that, as protector of the interests of his countrymen, he would go so far as to accompany them on their errands unless much was at stake. Perhaps Poritol was Alcatrante's tool and had bungled some important commission.
"But why did you say, 'I thought so'?" persisted Orme. "Did I say that? It must have been because I suspected that only a Japanese could be so agile as my assailant. But all this is immaterial. I should have warned you that Poritol's secret is dangerous. You should not have left your apartments." "Well, this certainly is a queer kettle of fish," muttered Orme.
"My right is that I have the bill and the information, and I intend to understand the situation better before I give the information to anyone else." "But you recognized Senhor Poritol's handwriting on the bill," exclaimed the minister. "On the face of it, yes. He did not write the abbreviations on the back." "Abbreviations!" exclaimed Poritol.
His obligation to the two South Americans seemed slight, now that the bill had passed from his hands and that he knew the nature of Poritol's actions. Nevertheless, he was a man of his word, and he hurried back to the Père Marquette, for the hour was close to ten.
He had been trying to earn money to go back and dig up the gold. But, alas! now he was dying, and he wished to give the secret to me, his old friend. "Tears streamed on my cheek." Senhor Poritol's eyes filled, seemingly at the remembrance. "But I took out my fountain-pen to write down the directions he wished to give. See this was the pen." He produced a gold-mounted tube from his waistcoat.
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