The arrival of a cartload of cases at the Junta, which Constance arranged for herself, bore out the letter.

Still, she waited anxiously for word from him.
The day set for the sailing of the _Arroyo_ arrived and with it at last a telegram: "Buy corn, oats, wheat.

Sell cotton." It was the code, telling of the safe arrival of the rifles, cartridges and the counterfeiting plant in New Orleans, a little late, but safe.
"Sell cotton," meant "I sail to-night." On the way over to the Junta, she had noticed one of Drummond's shadows dogging her.

She must do anything to keep the secret until that night.
She hurried into the dusty ship chandlery.

There was Gordon.
"Good morning, Mrs.Dunlap," he cried.