“Can you take me to him?”
“I guess so.”
“Then cast off,” Captain Carter ordered. “We’ll forget that you tried to manhandle me. Lucky for you I got a milk-and-honey disposition.”
Unconcerned by the Scouts’ loss of the manuscript, the seaman strode down the path toward the hotel.
In the darkness, he could not see the faces of the four Rovers which all too plainly mirrored their private thoughts as to the captain’s “milk-and-honey” temperament.
At the hotel once more, the boys could not find Mr. Livingston in the lobby. Somewhat puzzled by his prolonged absence, they returned to their original table with the captain.
As he studied the menu, the Explorers were able to examine his ruddy, unfriendly face. A jagged scar marred his left cheek. As for his dark eyes, they had a quick trick of shifting, and never seemed to return a steady, even gaze.
Willie, trying hard to make conversation, said: “You must know a lot about Peru, Captain Carter.”
“I’m wondering—” Jack began, and broke off.
“Have you been there often?”