The American leaned on the bottom of the slide, with his face scarcely two feet from the other, and with the revolver at his hip within instant reach.

“Captain Ortega, will you answer a question truly?”

“That depends upon the question, Senor; if I answer at all, it shall be truly, but I may choose to leave it unanswered.”

“Did you run this boat aground on purpose?”

Captain Ortega took two or three complacent whiffs, gazed off over the moonlit river and then removing the wisp of tobacco from between his lips, smiled, and looking into the face before him, coolly replied: 

“I did, Senor.”

“It was after my warning to you.”

“Begging pardon, Senor, it could not well have been before.”

“What did you hope to accomplish?”

“To help General Yozarro to recover his boat.”

“How?”

“I expected him to dash forward and board.”

“He lacked the courage to attempt it.”

“I am sorry to agree with you.”

“But he was wise; I kept one of the guns continually bearing upon him and would have blown him and his men to kingdom come.”

Again the Captain puffed his cigarette.  He looked dreamily down the river where the sailing craft had passed from sight.

“You would not have harmed General Yozarro or anyone in the boat.”

“You are insulting, Captain; I could not have missed them.”

“The port gun had no charge in it!”

“Good heavens! is that the truth?” demanded the astounded American.

“You have only to examine the piece for yourself to learn that it is.”

“Did General Yozarro know it?”

The Captain puffed several times so hard that the point of fire touched his mustache, then he impatiently flung the bit out of the window.  Superbly self-possessed as he was, he could not conceal his anger.

“How could he help knowing it, when by his own orders the charge was withdrawn before we left Atlamalco?  What his whim was I didn’t ask and do not care.”

“Knowing that, why did he hesitate?”

“Because,” replied Captain Ortega with a sneer, “he feared you might have learned the truth, and reloaded the gun.  I had no way of telling him different.”

“Why did you not tell me?”

Looking straight in the eyes of the American, the Captain said: 

“I am an Atlamalcan!”

“And the best of the lot!  But, Captain, did you not fear I would carry out my threat of shooting you when you ran the boat aground?”

“I expected you to try to do so, but I, too, should have done some shooting also.”

“You told me you were unarmed.”

“And when I said I had no weapon on me, it was the truth, but I did not tell you that I did not know where to lay hand on a revolver whenever it should become necessary.”

“I respect your frankness; I can suspect your plan, but may I not hear it from your own lips?”

“I was on guard, and had you raised your weapon when standing below, I should have fired my own first, and pardon me, Senor, I should not have missed.  Your two friends were also in fair range and would have received my attention in the same moment.”

“I must consider it fortunate that I did not act on my impulse, for at no time did I fear anything of that nature from you.  Having refrained, what then was your plan?”

“I had not a doubt that General Yozarro would board, having every reason to believe the port gun was empty, without any such thought on your part.  The moment he tried to do so, I should have left the wheel and done what I could to help him; I think I should have been able to give him some assistance, Senor ­I beg your pardon, I think I heard you called Major.”

“Little doubt you would; it was that I feared more than anything else, though I doubted your having a pistol.  My fear of you was my chief reason for trying to frighten them off from boarding.”

Captain Ortega seemed to think the subject entertaining, for he lit another cigarette ­first offering the box to the American ­crossed his legs, leaned back at his leisure, looked smilingly up in the American’s face, and said in an even voice: 

“It may be treason, Major, but General Yozarro is a coward!  He spoiled everything by refusing to attack, when nearly every man in his boat was eager for it.  When I was on the point of calling to him that the gun was empty, he tumbled back in the boat at your threat.  I was so filled with contempt that I vowed I would give him no help; I shall do nothing more to aid him, for, after I opened the door, he was too scared to enter it.  To prove I am in earnest, Major, I now surrender my only weapon.”

With which he drew out a beautiful silver-mounted revolver from under his loose jacket and extended it, with the muzzle turned toward himself, to the wondering American.

“I decline to take it, provided you will give me your parole to remain neutral in whatever may occur while I am on this craft.”

“You have my pledge,” said the Captain, shoving the weapon back.

“Can you tell me what General Yozarro is likely to do?”

“I can, but to do so, would be a violation of my neutrality.”

“A fair hit!” laughed the American; “I spoke without thought, but it will not touch the question of neutrality if you tell me how much longer we are likely to remain fast in the mud.”

“You may be aware that we feel the ocean tide to some extent in this part of the Rio Rubio.  Some time beyond midnight, if we do not drive farther upon the shoal, the tide will lift us clear.  You may not have noticed, Major, that the screw has been driving us forward most of the time, instead of backward.  It is doing so now, but with your permission, I will order the engineer to reverse.”

“Well, I’ll be hanged!  I heard you do that a good while ago.”

“That signal was for your benefit; there was another sent down the tube for the private ear of the engineer which you did not hear.”