The trip would be rough for
you, but not dangerous. Not as dangerous as staying here may be."
"Do you really think it so serious?"
"Most emphatically."
"Will you come with us and show us the way?" she inquired, gazing
with exaggerated appeal into his goggles.
"I? No."
"What shall you do?"
"Stick."
"Pins through scarabs," she laughed, "while beneath you Caracuna
riots and revolutes and massacres foreigners. Nero with his fiddle
was nothing to you."
"Miss Brewster, I'm afraid you are suffering from a misplaced
sense of humor. Will you believe me when I tell you that I have
certain sources of information in local matters both serviceable
and reliable?"
"You seem to have bet on a certainty in the Dutch blockade
matter."
"Well, it's equally certain that there is bubonic plague here."
"A bola. You told me so yourself."
"Perhaps there was nothing to be gained then by letting you know,
as you were bottled up, with no way out. Now, through the good
offices of a foreign official, who, of course, couldn't afford to
appear, this opportunity to reach the mainland is open to you.
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