It was there that I found waiting for me the above message by wireless from the Star in New York.
San Juan was, as we had anticipated, a thoroughly Americanized town and I lost no time in getting around at once to the office of the leading newspaper, the Colonial News. The editor, Kenmore, proved to be a former New York reporter who had come out in answer to an advertisement by the proprietors of the paper.
"What's the big story here now?" I asked by way of preface, expecting to find that colonial newspapermen were provincial.
"What's the big story?" repeated Kenmore, impatiently pushing aside a long leader on native politics and regarding me thoughtfully. "Well, I'm not superstitious, but a honeymoon spent trying to break into Davy Jones's locker for sunken treasure—I guess that's a good story, isn't it?"
I showed him my message and he smiled. "You see, I was right," he exclaimed. "They're searching now at the Cay d'Or, the Golden Key, one of the southernmost of the Bahamas, I suppose you would call it. I wish I was like you. I'd like to get away from this political stuff long enough to get the story."
He puffed absently on a fragrant native cigar. "I met them all when they were here, before they started," he resumed, reminiscently. "It was certainly a picturesque outfit—three college chums—one of them on his honeymoon, and the couple chaperoning the bride's sister. There was one of the college boys—a fellow named Gage—who fairly made news."
"How was that?" inquired Kennedy, who had accompanied me, full of zest at the prospect of mixing in a story so romantic.
"Oh, I don't know that it was his fault—altogether," replied Kenmore. "There's a young lady here in the city, the daughter of a pilot, Dolores Guiteras. She had been a friend of some one in the expedition, I believe. I suppose that's how Gage met her. I don't think either of them really cared for each other. Perhaps she was a bit jealous of the ladies of the party. I don't know anything much about it, only I remember one night in the cafe of the Palace Hotel, I thought Gage and another fellow would fight a duel—almost—until Everson dropped in and patched the affair up and the next day his yacht left for Golden Key."
"I wish I'd been here to go with them," I considered. "How do you suppose I'll be able to get out there, now?"
"You might be able to hire a tug," shrugged Kenmore. "The only one I know is that of Captain Guiteras. He's the father of this Dolores I told you about."