He bled at the mouth, too, all the
time, when he was not reviling my hotel. You'll see him if you go
there, provided he hasn't come apart with his coughing. I believe
he writes for newspapers. Well, it is my pleasure to serve you.
Command me at any hour." Mr. Carbajal rose reluctantly and went
wheezing down-stairs to his grimy tables and the flies.
O'Reilly was not in the least deceived; it was plain to him that
the hotel man was in close touch with the Spanish authorities, and
he began to feel the need of some better excuse, some valid
business reason, for being here, such as would allay suspicion
once for all. But he could think of nothing better than his
rheumatism, and to that he determined to cling.
VII
THE MAN WHO WOULD KNOW LIFE
Later that day O'Reilly set out to reconnoiter the city of
Neuvitas. He was followed, of course--he had expected as much, and
the circumstances amused rather than alarmed him. But when he
returned to his hotel and found that his room had been visited
during his absence he felt a hint of uneasiness. Evidently, as
Doctor Alvarado had forecast, the authorities were interested in
him; and he had further evidence of the fact when he learned that
the room next him was occupied by the very man who had shadowed
him on the street. Inasmuch as the intervening wall was no more
than a thin partition, through which his very breathing could be
heard, while his every movement could doubtless be spied upon,
O'Reilly saw the need of caution, and he began to cast about for a
place to hide that Colt's revolver, the presence of which was
assuming the proportions of a menace.
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