Saying nothing to his chum about it, Blake went with the letter toward the Spaniard's stateroom. He was not in, but Blake put the paper on a desk, with some others, and came out hastily.
"I wonder what that meant?" he thought to himself. "That must have been his orders to come back to Brazil and make the pictures. But if he goes at it that way—just to do the job and get away, he won't have much success. And to think of going to make films of European scenery when he isn't really capable of it."
"Well, some of these foreigners think they know it all when they have only a smattering of it," mused Blake. "Though Alcando isn't as bad that way as lots of others. Well, we've done our best with him. And how unjust all our suspicions were—Joe's and mine. I wonder what he really did think he was up to, anyhow?"
The next day Blake and Joe were busy making many important views of the big dam, which held back the waters of the Chagres River, creating Gatun Lake. The Spaniard, too, was busy with his preparations for leaving. He was away from the boys nearly all day, coming back to the boat, which they made their headquarters, in the evening.
"Get any pictures?" asked Blake. "If you have we'll pack up your reel and send it to New York with ours. Where's the little camera and case?"
Mr. Alcando stopped short, as though struck.
"By Jove!" he cried. "I left it out at the dam. I was making some views there, and used up all the film. Then I got to working on my alarm clock, and forgot all about the camera and film case. I left them out there, and my clock, too. I'll go right back and get them!"
He turned to leave the cabin, but, as he did so, Captain Wiltsey entered. He paid no attention to the Spaniard, but, addressing Blake and Joe said:
"Boys, I have a little task for you. Have you any flash-light powder?"
"Flash-light powder? Yes, we have some," Blake said. "But we can't use it for moving pictures. It doesn't last long enough."