“Just a few lines, my boy, to say that everything was going very wrong at present, and begging me whatever I did to keep the schooner’s cargo out of Villarayo’s hands, and to join Ramon as soon as I possibly can.”
“But where, father? Both the towns are in the enemy’s hands.”
“At his hacienda at the mouth of the Oltec River.”
“Hacienda?” said Poole. “That means a sort of farm, doesn’t it, father?”
“Yes, my boy, and of course that’s just the sort of place to deliver a cargo of such agricultural implements as we have brought on board. What do you say, Mr Burnett?”
“Agricultural implements, sir? Why, Captain Glossop had notice that you had taken in guns and ammunition.”
“Oh yes; people do gossip so,” said the skipper dryly. “I didn’t examine them much myself, but I know there were things with wheels.”
“But there was a lot of powder, sir—kegs of it, I heard.”
“Chemical manure perhaps, my lad; potash and charcoal and sulphur perhaps to kill the blight. Must be innocent stuff, or else my old friend Don Ramon would not want it at his farm.”
“I don’t understand,” said the middy.