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"We'll have to think it over." "Oh, of course. I should not ask for a decision now," said Mr. Alcando quickly. "I shall return to my hotel in the village, and come out to see you when I may when you have made your decision. I feel the need of a little rest after my narrow escape. And that it should be you who saved my life you of all!" Again the boys noted his peculiar manner.
Life was very simple in the jungle of Panama. "Oh, Blake, look!" suddenly cried Joe, as they were walking along a native path. "What queer insects. They are like leaves." The boys and Mr. Alcando saw what seemed to be a procession of green leaves making its way through the jungle. "Those are real leaves the ants carry," explained the guide, who spoke very good English.
Alcando, coming up now. "Are you hurt? Can you walk?" asked Blake. Joe found his voice though a faint voice it was. "Yes yes," he said, slowly. "I I guess I'm all right." There seemed to be no broken bones. Mr. Alcando took charge of the camera. It was not damaged except as to the tripod. "What happened?" asked Joe, his voice stronger now. "You were caught in the slide," Blake informed him.
As it was no harm had been done and, when the excitement had calmed down, and an inspection made to ascertain that the gates would now work perfectly, the tug was allowed to proceed. "Well, what are your plans now, boys?" asked Mr. Alcando on the day after the lock accident. "Back to Culebra Cut," answered Blake. "We have orders to get a picture of a big slide there, and we're going to do it."
Alcando had said was his new alarm clock. "Hark!" suddenly exclaimed Blake. Off to the left, where was planted the automatic camera, came a faint noise. It sounded like a suppressed exclamation. Then came an echo as if someone had fallen heavily.
"Oh, thank you, I am perfectly able to walk, thanks to your quickness in preventing the carriage and ourselves from toppling into the chasm," replied the Spaniard. Hank, with Mr. Alcando and Sam, walked back along the road, while Blake and Joe went to where they had dropped their motor cycle. They repaired the disconnected gasoline pipe, and rode on ahead to tell Mr.
"Though, I suppose," went on Mr. Alcando, as he folded the part of a letter Blake had picked up, "I suppose there are big guns at Panama if one could get pictures of them eh?" and again he looked sharply at Blake for what reason our hero could not determine. "Oh, yes, there are big guns down there," said Joe. "I forget their size, and how far they can hurl a projectile.
"Go on run!" cried Joe, for the Indian did not seem to understand. Then the meaning and need of haste occurred to him. "Si, señor, I go pronto!" he exclaimed, and he was off on a run. Fortunately for Blake and Mr. Alcando, the worst of the slide seemed to be over. A big mass of the hill below them, and off to their right, had slid down into the Canal.
Alcando, but the Spaniard needed no urging. He had laid with Blake's the boxes of film he carried, and the two were now speeding to the rescue. "Go get help!" cried Joe to an Indian worker from the tug, who had followed to help carry things if needed. "Go quick! Bring men shovels! We may have to dig him out," he added to Mr. Alcando. "If if we can find him," replied the other in low tones.
Hadley to expect us," Blake added. The boys left Mr. Alcando straightening out his papers, and started back through the town to the farm. "What made you act so funny, Blake, when you picked up that piece of paper?" asked Joe, when they had alighted from their motor cycle at the Baker homestead a little later. "Well, to tell you the truth, Joe, I was a bit suspicious."
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