Brandon of the Engineers

"Where do you reckon it went, if it wasn't into the mixing shed?"

"To the Santa Brigida mole," Dick answered quietly, and noting the man's

abrupt movement, went on: "What were you talking to Ramon Oliva about at

the Hotel Magellan?"

The storekeeper did not reply, but the anger and confusion in his face

were plain, and Dick turned to the others.

"I think we'll send for Oliva," said Stuyvesant. "Keep this fellow here

until he comes."

Oliva entered tranquilly, though his black eyes got very keen when he

glanced at his sullen accomplice. He was picturesquely dressed, with a

black silk sash round his waist and a big Mexican sombrero. Taking out a

cigarette, he remarked that it was unusually hot.

"You are doing some work on the town mole," Dick said to him. "Where did

you get the cement?"

"I bought it," Oliva answered, with a surprised look.

"From whom?"

"A merchant at Anagas, down the coast. But, señores, my contract on the

mole is a matter for the port officials. I do not see the object of these

questions."

"You had better answer them," Stuyvesant remarked, and signed Dick to go

on.

Dick paused for a moment or two, remembering how he had confronted his

judges in a tent in an English valley. The scene came back with poignant

distinctness.

He could hear the river brawling among the stones, and feel his Colonel's

stern, condemning gaze fixed upon his face. For all that, his tone was

resolute as he asked: "What was the brand of the cement you bought?"

"The Tenax, señor," Oliva answered with a defiant smile.

Then Dick turned to the others with a gesture which implied that there

was no more to be said, and quietly sat down. Tenax was not the brand

that Fuller used, and its different properties would have appeared in the

tests. The sub-contractor had betrayed himself by the lie, and his

accomplice looked at him with disgust.

"You've given the thing away," he growled. "Think they don't know what

cement is? Now they have you fixed!"

There was silence for the next minute while Stuyvesant studied some

figures in his pocket-book. Then he wrote upon a leaf, which he tore out

and told Dick to give it to Oliva.

"Here's a rough statement of your account up to the end of last month,

Don Ramon," he said. "You can check it and afterwards hand the pay-clerk

a formal bill, brought up to date, but you'll notice I have charged you

with a quantity of cement that's missing from our store. Your engagement

with Mr. Fuller ends to-day."

Oliva spread out his hands with a dramatic gesture. "Señores, this is a

scandal, a grand injustice! You understand it will ruin me? It is

impossible that I submit."