"Lucky for the general," he whispered, and Donald nodded his head
that he understood.
The two Mexicans exchanged a few words under their breath which
Donald could not hear and then the officer took from his breast
pocket a large wallet, from which he counted out ten bank notes.
They were yellow backs and Donald was not at all surprised when
the officer said:
"Here are ten one-thousand-dollar bills in American money. We
believe you are telling us the truth, as your words are
corroborated by the men who brought him here. But if you are
playing us false, we shall know how to reach you."
The American shrugged his shoulders as he took the bills, rolled
them up nonchalantly and placed them in his trousers pocket.
"You can find me at the Hidalgo Hotel whenever you want me," he
said, "and now I must be going."
He arose from his seat, and as he did so, Donald caught sight of
his face. It was the mountebank, Strong, but in his stylish
clothing Don had failed to recognize him.
"Great Scott!" he muttered to himself, "the plot thickens!"
"What's that?" queried the lieutenant, who caught the muttered
exclamation.
"Nothing much," replied Donald as the three men walked toward a
door in the farther end of the room and he was enabled to speak
without being heard, "only that is the man I'm looking for.
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