"Ponprè! It is the verra same—de man I do work for,—Alfredo Ponprè! De capitan knows him?"
"Not personally, but I have heard of him. He came, I believe, from a town still farther north, a place called Biloguana."
"Yees, yees—dat is he, Alfredo Ponprè—de rich friar. But he gives not much of his wealth away." And the face of Monclova fell abruptly.
"If you worked for him, you must know something about him," went on the young captain, with interest. "Did you ever hear of any affair between him and a rich mine owner named Garabella—a man now dead?"
At this question the friar looked somewhat disturbed, and Ben saw at once that he knew a good deal more than he cared to mention. He sneezed several times and helped himself to some more of the food which had been provided.
"I heara somet'ing—not verra much," he answered slowly. "Da haf troubles, yees, but Garabella is gone now and so—" He finished with a shrug of his lean shoulders. "What you knowa of dees, capitan?"
"I know Inez Garabella, the daughter, and I
