“Who protects his plantation with riflemen, sir?” asked Ned quietly.
“By Jove! that didn’t occur to me. But go on—question this fellow.”
“Was Senor Charbonde on board to-night?”
“Yes, sir, he arrived to-day on the mail steamer with another senor—an American.”
“An American engaged in this dastardly business!” exclaimed the midshipman.
“Yes, sir. Senor Hark—I forget the name.”
“Not Harkins?” fairly shouted Ned.
“That’s the name, senor. He swam ashore with the other senor when we saw your launch coming. As for us, we could not swim, so we waited the fate the saints held in store for us.”
“You know this Charbonde, Strong?” asked the midshipman in astonishment.