``That's no good, either,'' said Clay, shaking his head.``You fixed your nationality, as far as this continent is concerned, in Rio harbor, when Peixoto handed you over to the British admiral, and you claimed to be an American citizen, and were sent on board the `Detroit.' If there's any doubt about that we've only got to cable to Rio Janeiro--to either legation.But what's the use?
They know me here, and they don't know you, and I do.
You'll have to go to jail and stay there.''
``Oh, well, if you put it that way, I'll go,'' said Burke.
``But,'' he added, in a lower voice, ``it's too late, Clay.''
The expression of amusement on Clay's face, and his ease of manner, fell from him at the words, and he pulled Burke back into the chair again.``What do you mean?'' he asked, anxiously.
``I mean just that, it's too late,'' Burke answered.``I don't mind going to jail.I won't be there long.My work's all done and paid for.I was only staying on to see the fun at the finish, to see you fellows made fools of.''
``Oh, you're sure of that, are you?'' asked Clay.
``My dear boy!'' exclaimed the American, with a suggestion in his speech of his Irish origin, as his interest rose.``Did you ever know me to go into anything of this sort for the sentiment of it?
Did you ever know me to back the losing side? No.Well, I tell you that you fellows have no more show in this than a parcel of Sunday-school children.Of course I can't say when they mean to strike.I don't know, and I wouldn't tell you if I did.But when they do strike there'll be no striking back.It'll be all over but the cheering.''
Burke's tone was calm and positive.He held the centre of the stage now, and he looked from one to the other of the serious faces around him with an expression of pitying amusement.
``Alvarez may get off, and so may Madame Alvarez,'' he added, lowering his voice and turning his face away from Stuart.``But not if she shows herself in the streets, and not if she tries to take those drafts and jewels with her.''
``Oh, you know that, do you?'' interrupted Clay.
``I know nothing,'' Burke replied.``At least, nothing to what the rest of them know.That's only the gossip I pick up at headquarters.It doesn't concern me.I've delivered my goods and given my receipt for the money, and that's all I care about.
But if it will make an old friend feel any more comfortable to have me in jail, why, I'll go, that's all.''
Clay sat with pursed lips looking at Stuart.The two boys leaned with their elbows on the tables and stared at Burke, who was searching leisurely through his pockets for his match-box.From outside came the lazy cry of a vendor of lottery tickets, and the swift, uneven patter of bare feet, as company after company of dust-covered soldiers passed on their way from the provinces, with their shoes swinging from their bayonets.
Clay slapped the table with an exclamation of impatience.
``After all, this is only a matter of business,'' he said, ``with all of us.What do you say, Burke, to taking a ride with me to Stuart's rooms, and having a talk there with the President and Mr.Langham? Langham has three millions sunk in these mines, and Alvarez has even better reasons than that for wanting to hold his job.What do you say? That's better than going to jail.
Tell us what they mean to do, and who is to do it, and I'll let you name your own figure, and I'll guarantee you that they'll meet it.As long as you've no sentiment, you might as well fight on the side that will pay best.''
Burke opened his lips as though to speak, and then shut them again, closely.If the others thought that he was giving Clay's proposition a second and more serious thought, he was quick to undeceive them.
``There ARE men in the business who do that sort of thing,''
he said.``They sell arms to one man, and sell the fact that he's got them to the deputy-marshals, and sell the story of how smart they've been to the newspapers.And they never make any more sales after that.I'd look pretty, wouldn't I, bringing stuff into this country, and getting paid for it, and then telling you where it was hid, and everything else I knew? I've no sentiment, as you say, but I've got business instinct, and that's not business.No, I've told you enough, and if you think I'm not safe at large, why I'm quite ready to take a ride with your young friend here.''
MacWilliams rose with alacrity, and beaming with pleasure at the importance of the duty thrust upon him.
Burke smiled.``The young 'un seems to like the job,'' he said.
``It's an honor to be associated with Captain Burke in any way,''
said MacWilliams, as he followed him into a cab, while Stuart galloped off before them in the direction of the cuartel.
``You wouldn't think so if you knew better,'' said Burke.``My friends have been watching us while we have been talking in there for the last hour.They're watching us now, and if I were to nod my head during this ride, they'd throw you out into the street and set me free, if they had to break the cab into kindling-wood while they were doing it.''
MacWilliams changed his seat to the one opposite his prisoner, and peered up and down the street in some anxiety.
``I suppose you know there's an answer to that, don't you?'' he asked.``Well, the answer is, that if you nod your head once, you lose the top of it.''
Burke gave an exclamation of disgust, and gazed at his zealous guardian with an expression of trepidation and unconcealed disapproval.``You're not armed, are you?'' he asked.
MacWilliams nodded.``Why not?'' he said; ``these are rather heavy weather times, just at present, thanks to you and your friends.Why, you seem rather afraid of fire-arms,'' he added, with the intolerance of youth.
The Irish-American touched the young man on the knee, and lifted his hat.``My son,'' he said, ``when your hair is as gray as that, and you have been through six campaigns, you'll be brave enough to own that you're afraid of fire-arms, too.''
