ew experience for
us. Not quite so much jungle, I hope, as the dose we had of it
when we went after the wild animals."

"No, and I'm glad of it," responded Joe. "That was a little too
much at times. Yet there is plenty of jungle in Panama."

"I suppose so. Well, suppose we go up on deck for a breath of
air."

They had taken a steamer that went directly to Colon, making but
one stop, at San Juan, Porto Rico. A number of tourists were
aboard, and there were one or two "personally conducted" parties,
so the vessel was rather lively, with so many young people.

In the days that followed Joe and Blake made the acquaintance of a
number of persons, in whom they were more or less interested. When
it became known that the boys were moving picture operators the
interest in them increased, and one lively young lady wanted Blake
to get out his camera and take some moving pictures of the ship's
company. But he explained, that, though he might take the pictures
on board the steamer, he had no facilities for developing or
printing the positives, or projecting them after they were made.

In the previous books of this series is described in detail the
mechanical process of how moving pictures are made, and to those
volumes curious readers are referred.

The process is an intricate one, though much simplified from what
it was at first, and it is well worth studying.

On and on swept the _Gatun_, carrying our friends to the
wonderland of that great "ditch" which has become one of the
marvels of the world. Occasionally there were storms to interrupt
the otherwise placid voyage, but there was only short discomfort.

Mr. Alcando was eager to reach the scene of operations, and after
his first enthusiasm concerning the voyage had worn off he
insisted on talking about the detailed and technical parts of
moving picture work to Joe and Blake, who were glad to give him
the benefit of their information.

"Well, you haven't seen anything more suspicious about him; have
you?" asked Joe of his chum when they were together in the
stateroom one evening, the Spaniard being on deck.

"No, I can't say that I have. I guess I did let my imagination run
away with me. But say, Joe, what sort of a watch have you that
ticks so loudly?"

"Watch! That isn't my watch!" exclaimed his chum.

"Listen!" ordered Blake. "Don't you hear a ticking?"

They both stood at attention.

"I do hear something like a clock," admitted Joe. "But I don't see
any. I