The jocund morning was in their
hearts, and brought with it an augury of success based on nothing
so humdrum or tangible as reason.
O'Connor carried with him to the grim fortress not only his
permit for an inspection, but also a note from O'Halloran that
was even more potent in effect. For Colonel Ferdinand Gabilonda,
warden of the prison, had a shrewd suspicion that a plot was
under way to overthrow the unpopular administration of Megales,
and though he was an office-holder under the present government
he had no objection to ingratiating himself with the opposition,
providing it could be done without compromising himself openly.
In other words, the warden was sitting on the fence waiting to
see which way the cat would jump. If the insurgents proved the
stronger party, he meant to throw up his hat and shout "Viva
Valdez." On the other hand, if the government party crushed them
he would show himself fussily active in behalf of Megales. Just
now he was exerting all his diplomacy to maintain a pleasant
relationship with both. Since it was entirely possible that the
big Irishman O'Halloran might be the man on horseback within a
very few days, the colonel was all suave words and honeyed smiles
to his friend the ranger.
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