“I see we have a patriot in our midst, Morgan.” Senator Brandon’s eyes were half-lidded, his tone dry. “A well-paid patriot, I should add. I wonder if his scruples suffer when he takes my money?”

Delgado made a strangled sound, started forward, then came to a swift halt when Morgan pinned him with a hard, gimlet stare. There was something intimidating about the blue-eyed gringo who moved with such competence, even as weak from hunger and mistreatment as he was now. It was in the way he carried himself, a competence that had been weighted down with chains since arriving at the Galena, but was far too obvious now.

Backing away, Delgado reached for the door handle behind him, keeping his eyes on Steve Morgan. “Keep in mind, Señor Brandon, that the new president may not be as agreeable as the old one.”

When they were alone once more, Brandon said harshly, “Why in hell are you here?”

“If you mean in Mexico, the answer should be fairly obvious. There’s been a revolution.”

Steve prowled the small room, glanced at maps and plats scattered on tables, noted the leather bindings of ledgers locked behind glass doors. A sense of wary tension pervaded the room, was obvious in the senator’s eyes. Damn him. He bought and sold men like cattle and then had the nerve to ask questions! Steve swung around to stare at him, saw him recoil at the sudden movement. “It’s not just coincidence that I was brought here after being ambushed.”

Brandon made an impatient sound. “You don’t still think I had something to do with that? You’re wrong. I had no idea where you were or what happened to you. Virginia is in Mexico City, but has not returned my wire or letters. No one seemed to know what happened to you. Even your partner, that Paco Davis, has just dropped out of sight. Hell, you have a habit of doing that yourself.”

“I have a bad habit of running into folks who want me to drop out of sight. Sometimes permanently.” He paused, then frowned. “What is Ginny doing in Mexico City? She should have gone back to my grandfather’s.”

“Surely you’ve realized by now that my daughter does as she pleases, and that we are usually not advised of her reasons for it. No doubt she changed her mind on a whim, or whatever motive she may have. Probably something to do with that damn Luna.”

“Luna?” Steve’s head snapped up and his eyes narrowed, nearly missing the senator’s quick frown and tightened lips.

“Yes. A General Rafael Luna, emissary from Spain or some such nonsense. He sent me a damned impertinent telegram telling me that I should focus on my business interests and leave my daughter’s welfare to those who could assist her. A damned insolent man.”