The young engineer had been an interested listener to the conversation that had passed between Dave and Adair. The latter shrugged his shoulders.
"Sheer natural meanness and hatred of foreigners," he said, "or they mean to delay you."
"Why should they delay us?" protested Dave.
"To bleed you. The longer you stay here the more they will get out of you. They overcharge for everything, make you pay, and fine you, and make you trouble on every little technicality of the law that wretched governor can dig up."
"Why, that's abominable!" declared Bob.
"You see, the island here is in a squabble between Chili and Peru," explained the artist. "The governor has set up an independent dictatorship. He knows it can't continue, so he is hurrying to make all the money he can out of his position while it lasts."
"It looks as if you have given us some pretty straight information," said Dave seriously. "I must tell Captain Broadbeam. No," Dave checked himself. "I'll wait till I am sure of what you suspect, and look a little deeper into this matter."
"There's a group I'd like to take," interrupted Adair, glancing with an artist's fine interest at the sailors of the Swallow getting some tackle out to keel the ship.
He seized a boathook and, leaning over the side, caught its end in his camera outfit lying in the skiff below.
"There are some island views, if you would like to look them over," he observed, unstrapping a square portfolio from the camera rack.