bubonic plague here.” 

 “Oh—ah!” protested Sherwen gently. “The suspicion of plague. Quite a different matter.” 

 “Which usually turns out to be the same, doesn’t it?” inquired Mr. Brewster. 

 “Perhaps. People disappear, and one is not encouraged to ask about them. But then people disappear for many causes in Caracuña. Politics here are somewhat—well—Philadelphian in method. But—there is smoke rising from behind Capo Blanco.” 

 “What is there?” inquired the girl. 

 “The lazaretto. Still, it might be yellow fever, or only smallpox. The Government is not generous with information. To have plague discovered now would be very disturbing to the worthy plans of the Hochwald Legation. For trade purposes, they would very much dislike to have the port closed for a considerable time by quarantine. The Dutch difficulty they can arrange when they will. But quarantine would bring in the United States, and that is quite another matter. Well, we’ll see, when Dr. Pruyn gets here.” 

 “Who is he?” asked Carroll. 

 “Special-duty man of the United States Public Health Service. The best man on tropical diseases and quarantine that the service has ever had.” 

 “That isn’t Luther Pruyn, is it?” inquired Mr. Brewster. 

 “The same. Do you know him?” 

 “Yes.” 

 “More than I do, except by reputation.” 

 “He was in my class at college, but I haven’t seen him since. I’d be glad to see him again. A queer, dry fellow, but character and grit to his backbone.” 

 “I’d supposed he was younger,” said Sherwen. “Anyway, he’s comparatively new to the service. His rise is the more remarkable. At present, he’s not only our quarantine representative, with full powers, but unofficially he acts, while on his roving commission, for the British, the Dutch, the French, and half the South American republics. I suppose he’s really the most important figure in the Caracuña crisis—and he hasn’t even got here yet. Perhaps our Hochwaldian friends have captured him on 

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