“Papers and documents, most likely,” said Mr. Kennedy. “Those fellows don’t want to leave behind anything incriminating. They aren’t any fonder of going to prison than the next man.”
“If that tin box contains papers some of them might prove our uncle’s innocence,” ventured Frank.
“By Jove! So they might!” cried the coffee merchant. “I never thought of that. Bernardo is just the sort of rascal, too, to do away with the proof.”
“If we only had a boat!” and Ned groaned in disappointment as he uttered the words.
At that moment there came out from around one of the piers a small motor boat.
“Look!” cried Frank. “It isn’t very big, but it will hold us. And maybe we can catch them. Hi, you!” he called to the man in the boat, “sell us your craft—lend it to us. We’ll pay you well!”
The man only shrugged his shoulders and turned away.
“Name your own price!” yelled Ned.
“He doesn’t understand you,” said Kennedy. “He’s Portuguese. I know him. He’s a fruit dealer. I’ll talk to him.”
Rapidly the coffee merchant explained the situation. There was a quick exchange of rapid-fire talk, and the boatman brought his craft to shore.