EAN waited exactly ten minutes by her watch. Meanwhile she roughed her hair into wispy disorder. When the moving pointer reached the proper point on the dial she walked composedly to the office.
As she entered, Veinte Cuatro happened to be staring straight at the doorway, his eyes blank with thought. They focused at once on her, however, and automatically he arose. She paused within the door-frame, giving him a hesitant smile.
“General,” she said before he could speak, “I should like to go to the boat and get a few personal belongings. I know I look most unpresentable, and I do not like to remain so. But it would not be safe for me to walk alone among your men, would it?”
Cleverly phrased, that question. It aroused instantly his pride of control.
“Not safe? Señorita! You may walk unattended among the men of Federico Gordo without the slightest fear. Any man of mine who so much as speaks disrespectfully to you shall answer to me, and well they know it! Indeed you may go to the boat. But—” again gleamed the sudden twinkle under the bushy brows “—if you make yourself look more charming than at present, señorita, I fear that you will devastate my army!”
A merry laugh acknowledged his gallantry. She blushed a little, too, and for an instant her gaze dropped before his bold regard. Then she recovered her nonchalance.
“Then I warn you, sir, to prepare for devastation. You have seen me only at my very worst, and I intend to make radical changes at once. When I return, beware!” With another little laugh she turned and walked out.
He stood a few seconds looking at the empty doorway, the smile still in his eyes. All at once those eyes sharpened, as if with half-born suspicion. In three long strides he was at the outer door, watching her. She was swinging lithely away with head high, ignoring the men who squatted, sat, or stood along the street; a proud, cool figure, showing neither haste nor concern, nor once looking back. The men, most of them now full-fed and jovial, eyed her ardently, and more than one of them arose or turned as if meditating advances. But not one of them spoke. They glanced warily toward the door whence she had emerged, spied there the tall form and ominous face of their master, and were dumb. After she turned the corner—still without a backward look—Veinte Cuatro slowly returned to his treasure-table.
Even in the next street, beyond sight of the general, no man directly addressed the khaki-clad young woman, though a number of them exchanged broadly admiring remarks which made her color deepen. Nor did any one follow her. As Hart had predicted, the gang was temporarily on its best behavior. No man cared to have any complaint against him lodged with the ruthless general just now. So, unaccosted and unmolested, Jean passed to the boat.
“Just in time, girlie,” Hart welcomed her. “Have any difficulty?”
“No.” She glanced at the attentive Mendez. “He can't understand?”
“Not a word.”
“Well, I'm supposed to be obtaining personal effects and dolling up to devastate our mutual friend. And I told him I couldn't pass safely among his men, so he sent me alone to prove that I could. Now what do we do? Anything?”
“I'll say so,” affirmed Kelly. “We're goin' to devastate yer black gorilla quicker'n ye think, unless somethin' slips. Jest a little more flimflam work and we make a break. But don't let on.”
As he spoke he was lifting the top of a box seat beneath which, as he knew, she kept a travel set of toilet articles and other belongings; and, as if she had asked him to do so, he handed her the leather case. Seating herself insouciantly at the bow, she drew out mirror and comb, and, propping the glass at an angle, proceeded to arrange her hair. Mendez, hitherto watching faces and striving to interpret tones, smirked and relaxed, although he did not at once withdraw his attention from her. In fact, it took a peremptory summons from Hart to bring his mind back to the supposedly refractory ignition.