“I know nothing about it,” the other interrupted, but Hawley impatiently waved aside the disclaimer.
“And therefore I have no hesitancy in talking plainly to you,” he continued. “I don’t know just what your orders are, but if they provide for any protection being extended to Felix—as I trust is the case—I assure you that no time is to be lost. If you land a force of men at the fortress at once you may be able to save him, but if you delay, I fear it will be fatal.”
During this speech the bewildered expression passed from Captain Cortrell’s face, and was replaced by one of great astonishment. “Am I to understand that the man whose photograph you were to bring me is Francisco Felix, the missing President of Baracoa?” he inquired excitedly.
“Why, of course. Didn’t you know that?”
“And he is in El Torro fortress?”
“He was there—half an hour ago,” the Camera Chap replied significantly. “It may be too late, even now, to save him, but if not, you must realize that we can’t afford to beat about the bush. No doubt a report of my visit to the fortress, to-night, and the taking of the flash light, has already been sent to Portiforo. If so, he will probably resort at once to desperate measures.”
The naval officer’s face grew grim. “What do you expect me to do?” he inquired coolly.
The Camera Chap showed his astonishment at the question. “It seems to me that there is only one thing to do, captain—rescue Felix before Portiforo’s assassins can get to him. Why,” he went on eagerly, “the thing could be done in ten minutes without any trouble at all. I don’t know much about military tactics, but I’ve been studying the garrison of El Torro pretty closely for the past few days, and my observations make me feel confident that one boatload of your marines would be sufficient to take possession of the fortress without even a gun being fired. Or if you don’t care to go quite as far as that,” he added, “there is no need for your men to enter the fortress at all. They could rescue Felix from the outside—the same way that I got my picture. All that they’d have to do would be to step up to his window, break down the bars, and lift him through the opening.”
The warship’s commander smiled grimly. “Yes; I reckon it could be done,” he said.
“And you will do it?”