Publisher's Synopsis
Prisoner, attention! His excellency the President has permitted Senor Steinbaum to visit you." The "prisoner" was lying on his back on a plank bed, with his hands tucked beneath his head to obtain some measure of protection from the roll of rough fiber matting which formed a pillow. He did not pay the slightest heed to the half-caste Spanish jailer's gruff command. But the visitor's name stirred him. He turned his head, apparently to make sure that he was not being deceived, and rose on an elbow. "Hello, Steinbaum!" he said in English. "What's the swindle? Excuse this terseness, but I have to die in an hour, or even less, if a sunbeam hasn't misled me." "There's no swindle this time, Mr. Maseden," came the guttural answer. "I'm sorry I cannot help you, but I want you to do a good turn for a lady." "A lady! What lady?" "I don't know.""
