"No, you get so you'll do almost anything to get a good film," agreed Blake.
"This is easy compared to some of the things we've done," Joe remarked. "You'll become just as fascinated with it as we are, Mr. Alcando."
"I hope so," he admitted, "for I will have to penetrate into a much wilder jungle than this if I take the views our company wants. Perhaps I can induce you to come to South America and make films for us in case I can't do it," he concluded.
"Well, we're in the business," remarked Blake with a smile. "But you'll get so you can take for yourself just as good pictures as we can."
"Do you really think so?" asked the Spaniard, eagerly.
"I'm sure of it," Blake said.
The little suspicions both he and Joe had entertained of their companion seemed to have vanished. Certainly he neither did nor said anything that could be construed as dangerous. He was a polished gentleman, and seemed to regard the boys as his great friends. He often referred to the runaway accident.
As for the odd, ticking box, it seemed to have been put carefully away, for neither Blake nor Joe saw it, nor had they heard the click of it when they went near Mr. Alcando's possessions.
The first night in the jungle was spent aboard the boat. It was pleasant enough, mosquito canopies keeping away the pests that are said to cause malaria and yellow fever, among other things. But, thanks to the activities of the American sanitary engineers the mosquitoes are greatly lessened in the canal zone.
"And now for some real jungle life!" cried Blake the next day, as the little party set off into the forest, a group of laborers with machetes going ahead to clear the way.