“Hum,” pondered Ned, “maybe this girl is some relation.”
“Maybe; there’s a good catch for you, Ned,” laughed Stanley, “for this will disposes of an estate worth almost a million, and that’s a lot of money down here.”
“Or any other place,” grinned Herc, clinking what remained of his last month’s pay.
“Well, what are we going to do about it?” inquired Ned.
“Just hang on to it for a while,” counseled Stanley, handing back the paper. “I’d advise you to consult with Lieutenant Timmons or the American consul, and then we can learn better what to do about it. After all, the Guzman named here may be down in the Argentine for all we know. It’s a common enough name in South America.”
“That’s so,” agreed Ned, “but the ship hailed from this port, or so her papers said.”
“That’s right,” agreed Stanley, “but what was old de Guzman, supposing he is, or was, worth a million, doing in her galley?”
“That’s a poser,” cried Herc.
“It’s like a scattered Chinese puzzle,” muttered Ned. “I wonder if we shall ever be able to put it together. Hello!”
He started to his feet suddenly and ran rapidly round the table to the other side of the arbor.