"I came in to ask a favor," Anthony announced, "I suppose every tourist does the same."
"That's part of a consul's duty," Mr. Weeks panted, while his soft cheeks swelled with every exhalation. "That's what I'm here for."
"I want to cable home for money."
"A little poker game on the way down, eh?" He began to shake ponderously.
"I'm broke, and they won't take a collect message at the cable office. You see, I didn't know I was coming; some of my friends gave me a knockout and shipped me off on the Santa Cruz. The wireless wasn't working, we didn't stop at Jamaica, so this is my first chance to get word home."
"What do you wish me to do?"
"Cable for me and see that I have a place to stop until I get an answer."
A look of distrust crept slowly into the consul's little eyes.
"Are you absolutely broke?"
"I haven't got a jingle."