“It’s possible,” Dick agreed, and after hesitating for a few moments held on his course. He remembered that one can hear a launch’s engines and the splash of torn-up water for some distance on a calm night.
After a time, the lights of Santa Brigida twinkled ahead, and when they steamed up to the harbor both looked about. The American collier and a big cargo-boat lay with the reflections of their anchor-lights quivering on the swell, but there was no passenger liner to be seen. A man came to moor the launch when they landed, and Jake asked if the vessel he described had called.
“No, señor,” said the man. “The only boats I know like that are the Cadiz liners, and the next is not due for a fortnight.”
“Her model’s a pretty common one for big passenger craft,” Jake remarked to Dick as they went up the mole. “Still, the thing’s curious. She wasn’t at Adexe and she hasn’t been here. She certainly passed us, steering for the land, and I don’t see where she could have gone.”
Dick began to talk about something else, but next morning asked Stuyvesant for a day’s leave. Stuyvesant granted it and Dick resumed: “Do you mind giving me a blank order form? I’m going to Adexe, and the storekeeper wants a few things we can’t get in Santa Brigida.”
Stuyvesant signed the form. “There it is. The new coaling people seem an enterprising crowd, and you can order anything they can supply.”
Dick hired a mule and took the steep inland road; but on reaching Adexe went first to the sugar mill and spent an hour with the American engineer, whose acquaintance he had made. Then, having, as he thought, accounted for his visit, he went to the wharf and carefully looked about as he made his way to the manager’s office.
A few grimy peons were brushing coal-dust off the planks, their thinly-clad forms silhouetted against the shining sea. Their movements were languid, and Dick wondered whether this was due to the heat or if it was accounted for by forced activity on the previous night. A neatly built stack of coal stood beside the whitewashed sheds, but nothing suggested that it had been recently broken into. Passing it carelessly Dick glanced into the nearest shed, which was almost full, though its proximity to deep water indicated that supplies would be drawn from it before the other. Feeling rather puzzled, he stopped in front of the next shed and noted that there was much less coal in this. Moreover, a large number of empty bags lay near the entrance, as if they had been used recently and the storekeeper had not had time to put them away.
Two men were folding up the bags, but, by contrast with the glitter outside, the shed was dark, and Dick’s eyes were not accustomed to the gloom. Still he thought one of the men was Oliva, the contractor whom Stuyvesant had dismissed. Next moment the fellow turned and threw a folded bag aside, after which he walked towards the other end of the shed. His movements were leisurely, but he kept his back to Dick and the latter thought this significant, although he was not sure the man had seen him.
As he did not want to be seen loitering about the sheds, he walked on, feeling puzzled. Since he did not know what stock the company had held, it was difficult to tell if coal had recently been shipped, but he imagined that some must have left the wharf after the collier had unloaded. He was used to calculating weights and cubic quantities, and the sheds were not large. Taking it for granted that the vessel had landed one thousand five hundred tons, he thought there ought to be more about than he could see. Still, if some had been shipped, he could not understand why it had been taken, at a greater cost for labor, from the last shed, where one would expect the company to keep their reserve supply. He might, perhaps, find out something from the manager, but this would need tact.