"I do not understand, señor."
Thinking nothing could be gained by withholding all of the truth from him, Jack soon explained how they had been lost overboard from a vessel in the gulf, picked up by another, and then left ashore among strangers in a strange land. He did not consider it necessary or advisable to enter into descriptions of the ships they had recently left. If his account aroused at first some suspicion in the mind of the Venezuelan, Jack's honesty of tone quickly dispelled this, and the other said:
"You have been unfortunate, señors. There are many ships upon the sea at this time who do not care to pick up strangers. No doubt the craft was one of Castro's spies. They are looking far and wide for the Libertador, but they cannot find her," he concluded, showing evident pleasure at the thought. Then he asked, as if a new thought had come suddenly to him:
"What do they say of us in the Great Republic?"
"The sympathy of the United States is ever with the down-trodden," replied Jack, cautiously. "But we are not able to say just how our nation looks upon the revolution here, except that it will see fair play, for you must remember it has been nearly a year since we left home."
The other showed his disappointment at this, but soon asked:
"Have you friends in this country?"
"If we were at Caracas we might find them."
At this the man shook his head.
"It would be worth more than your lives to get to Caracas at this time. The 'Sons of Liberty' are looking sharp after the dogs of Castro."