"
The fire died in the eyes of Torreon. "Do not do that, Senor," he
exclaimed. "Wait at least one day more. Perhaps he will appear.
Perhaps he has only gone up to Bridgeport to see about some arms
and cartridges--who can tell? No, sir, do not call in the police,
I beg you--not yet. I myself will search for him. It may be I can
get some word, some clue. If I can I will notify Miss Guerrero
immediately."
Kennedy turned suddenly. "Torreon," he flashed quickly, "what do
you suspect about that shipment of half a million silver dollars?
Where did it go after it left the wharf?"
Torreon kept his composure admirably. An enigma of a smile
flitted over his mobile features as he shrugged his shoulders.
"Ah," he said simply, "then you have heard that the money is
missing? Perhaps Guerrero has not gone to Bridgeport, after all!"
"On condition that I do not notify the police yet--will you take
us to visit Senora Mendez, and let us learn from her what she
knows of this strange case?"
Torreon was plainly cornered. He sat for a moment biting his
nails nervously and fidgeting in his chair. "It shall be as you
wish," he assented at length.
"We are to go," continued Kennedy, "merely as friends of yours,
you understand? I want to ask questions in my own way, and you
are not to--"
"Yes, yes," he agreed.
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