It was said to be the rainy season in this country that lay in the tropics. Up on the high mountain peaks lay snow the year around; but in the low lands, and along the valleys and sides of the uplifts, they could grow coffee, cocoa, bananas pineapples, oranges and all manner of similar products.
A small crowd gathered at the wharf to see the little steam yacht come in. Perhaps the former English wandering owner had been here before, and some of them even recognized the vessel.
Scowls greeted her passengers when it was discovered that they were not English but Americans. Frank and Andy paid little heed to these frowns. They did not mean to leave the boat, if so be it were possible to have Señor Almirez come aboard. And for that purpose they had written to him ahead of time, telling him how they expected to reach Barranquila about a certain date.
Several breakdowns of the engine had delayed them, so that they were even now two days behind time. On this account, as well as through prudence, they meant to stop here as briefly as possible.
Immediately their purser went ashore to make inquiries, and purchase a lot of fruits that could be taken on the river voyage; though for that matter they might expect to get anything they wanted at various villages along the route.
Frank was looking the crowd over closely.
"I think I see him, Andy," he remarked, presently.
"You mean Señor José?" asked his cousin, eagerly. "I've been watching that middle-aged gentleman who seems to be pressing close in on the flank of the crowd. There, see, he is speaking to Manuel, our purser, now, asking him some question. He looks up here at us; yes, and waves his hand, with a smile! That must be Señor José, all right, Frank."
"I'm going down to meet him, to fetch him aboard," declared Frank, after both boys had answered the signals of the dark-faced gentleman in the white linen suit, and who was also wearing a Panama straw hat.
Three minutes later and Frank reappeared, having the other in tow.