The 〃fog〃 was smoke； issuing from a live volcano。 Of a sudden； laughter ceased when one of the passengers exclaimed：
〃Centralba！〃
The very word cast gloom。 It produced too graphic images of Castenago and his gatomontes。 Out of the buzz； it became evident that everyone wanted to question Allard as to his choice of destination。
Recognizing the low chatter； Allard turned from the controls and spoke to Margo； the nearest passenger。
〃Tell them it is a forced landing。〃 His tone was clipped； quite the opposite of Cranston's drawly speech。 〃There is an excellent airport at Libertad； the capital。 We shall use it。〃
Margo passed the word along。 Others were doubtful； wondering。 While Margo was trying to separate the queries； Allard did it for her。
〃Our gasoline is low。〃 He gestured toward a cluster of a dozen dials； among the many that spread over the panel。 〃Probably a faulty gas tank。
Castenago won't annoy this party； unless individual members criticize his regime。 There is an American consulate in Libertad； we shall notify it as soon as we arrive。
〃The Imperial Hotel is excellent； and has survived half a dozen earthquakes。 Anyone who wants to go home can take a train from Libertad to Puerto Marias； the town we just passed； and take the first ship for New Orleans。〃
WHILE Margo was dispensing that information in individual doses； Allard guided the ship through a wide； curving mountain pass； where the roar of the motors awoke flocks of condors and sent the giant thunderbirds away in scattering squadrons。
The mountains spread into regiments of peaks； and miles ahead； a great valley splashed the vivid green of tropical verdure。
Fears of Castenago dwindled as the air voyagers watched the unfolding scene。 Traces of white appeared among the green and soon became a solid splotch； with dabs of faint pink and creamy…yellow serving as a touch of color。
The plane was approaching a city so charming in its setting； so bizarre in its own appearance； that no one could retain thoughts of the ominous。
Conspicuously inviting； the airport practically beckoned to Allard's plane。 He crossed it； banked； and came to a perfect landing inside a mile…wide inclosure； where men in picturesque uniform came dashing over to meet the ship。
Some of these men were airport attendants； others police； still more were soldiers。 One representative of each group was on hand when Allard stepped from the plane。
Allard talked in Spanish； with a trace of local accent that seemed to please them； with the exception of two listeners； who wore green…gray uniforms and remained in the background。 After the passengers alighted； to be received with courteous bows by all but the green…gray pair； Allard undertoned to Margo：
〃Gatomontes。 They don't trust anyone； not even themselves。 Don't tell the other passengers； they'd only worry。〃
Margo was pleased to thus receive Allard's confidence。 She remembered what Cranston had said that afternoon in Miami。 He'd spoken well of Allard； and Margo had seen the aviator that very evening； but hadn't known who he was until the next day。
When Cranston mentioned persons briefly； it meant that he regarded them as real friends。 In this instance； it applied to Allard。 Cranston was right in wanting Margo to take the air trip。 She and Kent Allard were good friends already。
Automobiles were at the airport…large； closed cars that took the party of eight； in two groups of four。 Margo was in the car with Allard； and just before they started she saw one of the gatomontes speak to an airport official。
With a jerky bow and a monkey smile； the official bobbed his head into the car。
〃It is very hot；〃 he said to Allard。 〃So； senor； I must lower the window curtains。 It is not good that you should get the sunstroke。〃
The driver lowered his curtain； too； the real purpose obviously being to prevent the visitors from seeing too much of Libertad until their status could be properly determined。 As they rode along； Allard turned a curtain slightly and let Margo peer through the crack。
〃You won't see much； anyway；〃 he told her。 〃I've been to Libertad before； back in the days when the town had a more appropriate name。 This driver is taking us through all the back streets； to reach the consulate。〃
〃Will it be like this；〃 asked Margo； 〃all the time we're here？〃
〃Quite the opposite；〃 assured Allard。 〃After I've chatted with the consul； we'll be wele。 It takes awhile for the proper word to reach a dictator like Louis Castenago。 Those chaps usually bee cordial when it is good policy to do so。〃
A SHORT stop was made at the consulate； and after they left； Margo observed that the blinds were no longer drawn in the car。 However； the trip to the hotel was very short； and Margo saw little other than white walls and a broad； sleepy avenue； where even the palms were too tired to wave in the brilliant tropical sun。
She noted that the avenue was called 〃Avenida Castenago〃 and that the Imperial Hotel fronted a broad； parklike square…termed 〃Plaza del Libertador；〃 which probably meant Castenago； too。
The dictator's pretense of being a liberator struck Margo as quite ironic。
She wondered what Castenago looked like； and she found out； to a slight degree； when she bought some postage stamps at the hotel desk。
On the way up to her room； Margo noted that the stamps bore Castenago's portrait； that of a wide jawed man whose smudgy eyebrows gave the stamps a canceled look。 Not much to judge Castenago by； but Margo decided that she wouldn't like him if she met him。 By this time； she was feeling the oppressive heat of Libertad and decided to take a siesta； as the natives did。
She had hardly begun her nap before the telephone bell rang。 Answering sleepily； Margo heard Allard's voice。 It had the sharp clip of an order。
〃Be ready at six o'clock；〃 he said。 〃We're banqueting with Luis Castenago。
If there's anything you need in the way of an evening gown； or what not； just call the desk and give the order。 They'll make the local shops deliver anything that's needed。 Don't worry about prices。 If they're too high； Castenago will print some more money and pay the bills。〃
From her window； Margo took another look at the stilled green of the Plaza del Libertador。 The silence of that deserted area seemed to reflect the ominous tyranny of Castenago； whose word was law in Centralba。 She wondered if the plaza would ever be alive before the dictator's regime ended。
Alive！
Margo wondered； too； if that term still applied to Colin Nayre； so recently returned to Centralba in defiance of Castenago's power！
CHAPTER IX
CASTENAGO'S BANQUET
AT six Margo met the others in the lobby。 They were all agog over the ing banquet。 They'd taken Castenago at his word and bought plenty of things they required； from the shops in Libertad。
Margo； herself； had chosen a modest； but attractive evening gown…and paid for it。 She didn't care to be indebted to anyone； even Luis Castenago。
Some ludicrous things happened in the lobby。
First； one of the group happened to mention to an English…speaking clerk that they were 〃members of Allard's party。〃 The clerk was instantly horrified。
〃There is but one party in Centralba！〃 he exclaimed。 〃The Castenago party！〃
It took a deal of explaining before the clerk could understand the various interpretations of the English term 〃party。〃 After that； Margo and the rest decided to announce themselves simply as 〃friends of Senor Allard。〃
It was funny； too； the way the bellboys hopped about picking up packages of unwanted merchandise； to take back to the shops。 They were doing something most unusual for bellboys： they were refusing tips。 To accept gratuities from anyone important enough to be entertained personally by Castenago； was definitely taboo。
Margo had in idea that the bellhops would get their remuneration later； after Castenago ordered a new press run of currency。
Joining the group； Kent Allard provided the last touch of pleasantry； if it could be called such。 He gave a package to a bellboy； telling him to take it back to the shop where it came from； because the shirts were the wrong size。 He tucked a note into the parcel； to explain the matter fully； and then turned to his friends。
〃I trust the banquet won't be a lavish affair；〃 he said dryly。 〃You understand why； of course。〃
Headshakes proved they didn't understand。 So Allard explained。 It was Castenago's policy to wine and dine his foes； political or otherwise； whenever occasion required。 Such occasion was invariably the death of the enemies in question； usually within the next two days。
Castenago always allowed enough time to pass so that no one would accuse him of having poisoned his guests。 After that； sudden things happened。
Accidents or suicides were the general rule。 Somehow； banqueting with Castenago inspired certain persons to dangerous undertakings； such as taking wild rides along the difficult highways of Centralba just when a bridge was going out or a landslide due to e。 They'd even been known to go climbing volcanoes and slip into the craters。
Others； very curiousl