"Never mind the police. The soldiers will take care of this cutthroat," returns the other. "But come to my quarters while I endeavor to express adequate thanks for your service to-night. They are near by and I will send a detail of men for this rascal."
"Oh, never mind the thanks," Barker replies carelessly. "It was nothing. I happened to overhear the pair planning to knife some one, and I followed to see the fun. Only I must admit I thought from their talk that their intended victim was one of my own countrymen, an American."
"So I am, or was, by birth. But I am now an officer in the Spanish army, Capt. Alvarez, of the staff of his excellency, the captain-general."
It is as well that a fleecy cloud at the moment dims the moonlight, for Barker, trained to control his emotions though he is, cannot avoid a sudden start.
Alvarez! the man beside him is Ralph Felton!
"Ah, here we are," continues the self-expatriated American, as he stops before a large mansion facing the plaza. "Excuse me a moment while I send a man or two to look after your handcuffed friend."
Alvarez hurries to the rear of the building and returning shortly conducts Barker to a comfortably furnished room on the first floor. "My sleeping-room," he explains. "Now, tell me how you happened to overhear that precious pair planning to assassinate me."
Barker briefly details the events leading up to the attack on Alvarez, the latter listening with knitted brows, but without comment.
"Well, now of yourself," he says, when Barker has concluded.
Barker hesitates a moment, the while studying the face before him. "Cyrus Felton's son, or his double" he thinks. Then he takes a sudden resolution. "I am a soldier of fortune," he laughs. "I came down here to see the country and a little fighting maybe. My name is Parker; residence, the world. What are the chances for a commission in the Spanish army?"
"Hardly good for a commission. But"—Alvarez looks
