of the Lagao Rodrigo de Feitas, at nine o'clock. She is the only messenger I can trust. I think that is all."
Bell hesitated uncomfortably.
"But you, sir," he said awkwardly. "You have been poisoned, as Senor Ortiz was."
"But certainly," said Canalejas. His smile was ironic as before. "But, unlike Senor Ortiz, I have no hope. I have arranged for my daughter to conceal herself and escape from Brazil. I have prepared for everything, Senhor. As you know, I had intended to kill Senhor Ribiera. In returning with you I have merely delayed my own death by a few hours.
Still smiling, and with. the air of one entering a train for the most casual of journeys, Canalejas entered the coach.
AND Bell, sitting in the bonde next morning, saw with an uncanny clarity the one weak point in Ribiera's hold upon his subjects. When they had courage to fear nothing more than death, they could defy him. And not many could attain to that courage. But a few. . . .
"I'll have some help, anyway," muttered Bell savagely to himself.
It is a long ride to the Botanical Gardens, from which one-half the surface lines of Rio take their name. On the way out to the Lagao Rodrigo de Feitas, which is close by the Garden itself, Bell had time to work over for the thousandth time the information be possessed, and realize its uselessness. Two things, only, might be of service. One was that Ribiera was the nephew of the person referred to as The Master, and yet was evidently as much subjected to him as his own victims to himself. The other was that the ultimate end of all the ghastly scheme was in some fashion political. If wealth alone had been Ribiera's aim, the gathering of his slaves would have had a different aspect. The majority of them would have been rich men, men of business, men who could pay out hundreds of thousands a month in the desperate hope of being permitted to remain sane. There would not have been politicians and officials and officers of the army.
"The key men of the country," growled Bell inaudibly, "enslaved to Ribiera. They give him the power he's after more than cash. And it's those key men who have more to lose than money. There's such a thing as honor. . . ."
Three times the conductor stopped beside him and suggestively rattled the coins in his box. Three times Bell absent mindedly paid the fare for the zone. But the ride is a long one, and he had had time to realize the hopelessness of any single-handed attack upon the thing he faced long before the end.
Then he absently moved through the amazing collection of tropic and near tropic growths that is the Botanical Garden until he came at once to Paula and the Lagoa Rodrico de Freitas.
IT was alive with birds, and they hopped and pecked and squabbled without acrimony within feet of her
seated figure. Bell knew that she had been waiting for a long time. He looked quickly at her face. It was quite pale, but entirely tearless.
"Here is the message, Senhor Bell," she said, quietly; "but I think I have been followed."
Bell growled in his throat.
"I did not discover it until I reached this spot," she said evenly. "And I did not know what to do. If I left, I would be seized and the message taken—and I think that someone would have waited here for you. So, in part to gain time, and in part because I hoped you might have some resource, I remained."
"How many of them?" asked Bell shortly.
"Two," she said quietly. She looked at him, her large eyes entirely calm and grave.
"Give me the package," said Bell briefly. "They'll be more anxious to
