Chapter III: Picking Up the Ends

The room which Jim and the chief engineer entered was furnished in marked contrast to the outer room, which was plainly, even meagerly equipped with a few chairs and a table or two and a desk. The inner room was luxuriously and lavishly fitted up with a handsome mahogany desk, easy chairs, fine paintings upon the walls and costly rugs upon the floor.

Motioning to them to be seated with a sweep of his hand, upon which glittered a serpent ring of peculiar design with ruby eyes which seemed to glow as if alive, the lawyer eyed them coldly for a moment through half closed eyes.

"You wished to see me upon business connected with the Senor de Cordova," he said, without any preliminary greeting.

"Yes," replied Jim quietly, "I have been referred to you as being in charge of his affairs."

"By whom?"

"The clerk at the Palace Hotel."

"Ah, indeed. What is the nature of your business with him?"

"That I will communicate with him personally," answered Jim, who had conceived an instant distrust of the man. "What I wish to know is his present address."

The lawyer leaned back in his chair and softly whistled for a moment with a sort of hissing sound.

"He's concocting some sort of a scheme now," thought Jim, who was regarding him critically.

"I cannot inform you of his exact whereabouts," remarked the lawyer, "but he is somewhere in the northern part of the State. He was called away on some important business."

"Was it in connection with the abduction of his daughter?" asked Jim, rising to his feet and standing beside the desk looking directly into the eyes of the lawyer.

"Eh, what is that?" asked the lawyer, hastily shuffling the papers on his desk, but not before Jim had caught sight of the words "San Mat--" in a familiar handwriting.

"I said, has his journey any connection with the abduction of his daughter?" repeated Jim.

"What do you know about the abduction of the Senorita de Cordova?" asked the lawyer, sharply. "Perhaps you had something to do with it."

"I haven't anything to do with it," answered Jim, "but I know who did, and I know where the Senorita is."

"Indeed, you seem to think, young man, that you know a good deal. Suppose I were to put the matter in the hands of the police?"

"Just as you like," responded Jim, "there is my address if you want me. You can find me there any time. I think," turning to Berwick, "there is nothing more to be gained here."

"There doesn't seem to be," replied Berwick.

"Then don't waste any more of my time," said the lawyer sharply. "Wickham," to the clerk, "you can show these gentlemen," with a sneering emphasis on "the gentlemen," "out."

Thus curtly dismissed, Jim and his companion made their way to the street.

As soon as they had gone, the lawyer hastily wrote upon a sheet of paper:

"Look out for a young fool who calls himself James Darlington, and knows more than is good for him," to which he added the initials W. H. R. and calling Wickham into the room gave it to him with orders to see that it be delivered at the address given, where it would come into the hands of Captain Broome at once.

This done, Mr. Reynolds leaned back in his chair, and began whistling softly.

"I think, Mr. James Darlington, that a voyage with Captain Broome might teach you not to meddle in other people's affairs," he said to himself, with an ugly expression on his face.

The message reached its destination within a few minutes after it had been sent, and was in the hands of Captain Broome in less than half an hour.

"Ha!" snorted Broome, when he read it. "I think I can take care of him. Hey, Manuel," to a swarthy Mexican dwarf, who was with him. "That Jim Darlington is making trouble again. Get on his trail so I can catch him."

"Si, Senor," replied the Mexican with an ugly grin. "Shall I give him the knife?"

"No," responded Broome, vindictively, "I want him alive."