ght," was Blake's slow answer. "Only I
think--"

"Blake thinks he's an international spy, I guess!" broke in Joe
with a laugh. "Tell him about the 'big guns,' Blake."

"What's that?" asked Mr. Hadley, quickly.

Whereupon Blake told of the wind-blown letter and his first
suspicions.

"Oh, that's all nonsense!" laughed Mr. Hadley. "We have
investigated his credentials, and find them all right. Besides,
what object would a South American spy have in finding out details
of the defenses at Panama. South America would work to preserve
the Canal; not to destroy it. If it were some European nation now,
that would be a different story. You don't need to worry, Blake."

"No, I suppose it is foolish. But I'm glad to know you think Mr.
Alcando all right. If we've got to live in close companionship
with him for several months, it's a comfort to know he is all
right. Now when are we to start, how do we go, where shall we make
our headquarters and so on?"

"Yes, you will want some detailed information, I expect," agreed
the moving picture man. "Well, I'm ready to give it to you. I have
already made some arrangements for you. You will take a steamer to
Colon, make your headquarters at the Washington Hotel, and from
there start out, when you are ready, to get pictures of the Canal
and surrounding country. I'll give you letters of introduction, so
you will have no trouble in chartering a tug to go through the
Canal, and I already have the necessary government permits."

"Then Joe and I had better be packing up for the trip," suggested
Blake.

"Yes, the sooner the better. You might call on Mr. Alcando, and
ask him when he will be ready. Here is his address in New York,"
and Mr. Hadley handed Blake a card, naming a certain uptown hotel.

A little later, having seen to their baggage, and handed their
particular and favorite cameras over to one of the men of the film
company, so that he might give them a thorough overhauling, Blake
and Joe went to call on their Spanish friend.

"Aren't you glad to know he isn't a spy, or anything like that?"
asked Joe of his chum.

"Yes, of course I am, and yet--"

"Still suspicious I see," laughed Joe. "Better drop it."

Blake did not answer.

Inquiry of the hotel clerk gave Blake and Joe the information that
Mr. Alcando was in his room, and, being shown to the apartment by
a bell-boy, Blake knocked on the door.

"Who's there? Wait a moment!" came in rather sharp accents from a
voice t