“It’s a pity we ever let him get away from Hampton,” muttered Merritt. “Of course, we found out that he and the man with him bought tickets for New York, but that was only a blind clew at best.”
“Well, we don’t actually know that he is on the Zone at all,” struck in Rob; “although all the steamship offices were quizzed, we couldn’t find out that anybody answering Jared’s description had taken passage for the Isthmus.”
“So far as that is concerned,” remarked Fred, “dad says that that proves nothing. He might have shipped from San Francisco or New Orleans, or even from some Canadian port for some other destination, and then worked his way up here on a sailing vessel or coasting steamer.”
“And that’s just about what he would have done,” cried Rob. “Both Alverado and Estrada have plenty of sympathizers in Bogota who would help them in any plot against Uncle Sam. But, after all, the whole thing may be a false alarm.”
“You wouldn’t think so if you could have heard what dad said at that meeting of the Canal heads the other day,” rejoined Fred. “Of course I can’t tell you what took place, although I was present in my capacity as secretary; but from what I heard a strict watch is to be kept and the guards doubled.”
“If Estrada and Alverado know the country well, it’s quite likely that they aren’t in the city at all,” struck in Merritt. “The country outside the actual Canal Zone is a trackless jungle. They may be hiding up in there some place.”
“That’s quite likely, too,” rejoined Fred. “I heard dad saying something about that the other day. By the way, we are going to start up the Chagres day after to-morrow; won’t that be bully? That’s my idea of sport,—following up a tropic river looking for a tributary.”
“What’s your dad going to do with the tributary when he finds it?” asked the practical Tubby.
“That hasn’t been settled yet,” was the rejoinder. “Of course, if it proves to be the branch that feeds the Chagres and causes all the trouble in flood time, it will be dammed or something so as to make it harmless.”
“Say, don’t talk so loud,” whispered Rob in a cautious tone, for the boys from their first low tones had gradually drifted into louder talk, “that driver is listening to every word we’re saying.”