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the instant after he appeared I did not recognize Ramon Delverez. When I had met him before he had been dressed as a high-toned Spanish gentleman; now his clothing was rough and shabby, and he had not had a shave for some time.

"Ha, so we meet again!" he said, in his grating tones. "It is a great pleasure," and he smiled sarcastically.

"You had better let us go, if you wish to keep out of more trouble, Delverez," said Oliver, as calmly as he could.

"Oh, I will let you go," smiled the Spaniard. "But not yet—oh, no; not yet."

"What do you intend to do with us?" I asked.

"That will be decided later. Bah! you I care nothing about," he went on; "but you, and you"—tapping Dan and Oliver with his foot—"you are the ones I will deal with."

"You thought it was a smart thing to ransack our baggage," I continued.