"Where the devil have you been?" the latter inquired, anxiously.
"Been getting out my weekly joke about the revolution. Had to write up this morning's 'battle.' Couldn't work in my room, so I-- "
"Sit down; and don't jump when I tell you what has happened. We're going to be pinched at midnight."
"Why midnight?"
"I don't know, unless that's the fashionable hour for military calls."
"What's it all about?"
"I guess they don't like us. Have you got anything incriminating about you?"
"N-no! Nothing, except my citizen's papers and--a letter of introduction to General Maximo Gomez."
O'Reilly suddenly lost what appetite remained to him.
"Nothing EXCEPT a letter to General Gomez!" he cried. "Good Lord, Branch! Were you ever shot at sunrise?"
The reporter coughed dismally. "N-no! It's too damp. I suppose you mean to hint I'd better destroy that letter, eh?"
"Just as quickly as possible. Where is it?"
"In my room."
"Hm-m! Then I'm not sure you'll have a chance to destroy it." O'Reilly was thinking rapidly. "From what I was told I suspect you are being watched even there."
"Bullets! I thought as much."
"Would you mind using some other oath?" O'Reilly broke out, irritably. "I've always considered 'bullets' weak and ineffective, but--it has a significance."
"There's a new lodger in the room next to me. I've heard him moving around. I'll bet he's got a peephole in the wall." Branch was visibly excited.
"Quite likely. I have the same kind of a neighbor; that is he watching us now."
Leslie cast a hostile eye at the man his friend indicated. "Looks like a miserable spy, doesn't he? But, say, how am I going to make away with that letter?"
"I'm trying to think," said Johnnie. After a time he rose from the table and the two strolled out. Johnnie was still thinking.
When the two arrived at Branch's quarters O'Reilly scrutinized the room as closely as he dared, and then sat for some time idly gossiping. Both men were under a considerable strain, for they thought it more than likely that hostile eyes were upon them. It gave them an uncomfortable thrill; and while it seemed a simple thing to burn that letter of introduction, they realized that if their suspicions were correct such a procedure would only serve to deepen their difficulties. Nothing they could later say would explain to the satisfaction of the authorities so questionable an act. The mere destruction of a mysterious document, particularly at this late hour, would look altogether too queer; it might easily cause their complete undoing. Inasmuch as his enemies were waiting only for an excuse to be rid of him, O'Reilly knew that deportation was the least he could expect, and at the thought his fingers itched to hold that letter over the lamp-chimney. Imprisonment, almost any punishment, was better than deportation. That would mean beginning all over again.