“You were right, Syd,” he laughed, “the locket is gone. He did risk detection to gain possession of it. But it doesn’t matter, I can never forget the girl’s face. I have looked at it a hundred times in the last few days.”
“The man of the locket and the fellow who was watching us on deck are one and the same,” Sydney exclaimed, proud of his perception.
“Probably so,” answered Phil, “but that doesn’t help us; he was clever enough not to be recognized.”
The boys, in spite of the incident, soon fell asleep, and when they awakened the “Connecticut” had anchored inside the break-water at La Boca.
It was but a short time after sunrise when they stood together at the rail gazing intently on their surroundings.
“So this is South America,” said Sydney finally; “it looks just like any other country, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, but there is a difference,” answered Phil, meditatively; “for instance, see that native boatman sculling along as if he had a week to reach his destination; then look over there at the coal pile on the mole. There are nearly enough men to actually eat the coal, yet they are not doing as much work as ten good Americans. We are in the land of ‘Mañana’ (to-morrow). No one wishes to work too hard to-day, for he wishes to save enough to do to-morrow.”
“We are not the first nation to send a war-ship here, I see,” said Captain Taylor, joining the boys in their study of the harbor. “There is a German cruiser over yonder and a Frenchman is anchored just astern of us, and our wireless operator has been in communication with a British ship for some hours. She is on her way from Barbadoes. It seems we are to have an interesting time.”
Phil was impatient to ask the captain when their work would commence, but he desisted. It were better the captain should broach the subject.
“I hope you lads have the ‘lingo’ at your tongue’s tip,” the captain remarked smilingly. “You won’t find much English spoken here, and a little Spanish is a necessity.”