"Well, you may be pretty certain Philip won't go, nor I. Why not send Peter? Write out your news here. Peter will take it, and old Benker will look after the yacht."
"How far is it to Truxillo?"
"A trifle over three hundred miles."
"Do you think Philip will lend me the yacht?"
"I'm sure he will. Let us ask him at once. He is flirting with Doña Eulalia in Maraquando's patio."
Tim, who had quite recovered his spirits at Jack's happy suggestion, started off at once to the Casa Maraquando. There was no necessity, however, for them to go so far, for they met their friend coming down the Calle Otumba. He hailed them at once.
"Tim! Jack! come along to the Puerta de la Culebra. News from Chichimec."
"What do you say?" roared Tim, plunging towards the speaker.
"Cocom came to the Casa Maraquando a few minutes ago, and told me that a messenger had arrived from Chichimec. He is at the Puerta de la Culebra."
"The deuce!" cried Jack, in alarm, as they hurried along towards the gate; "perhaps it's another request for relief."