The voice of
the girl had dropped to a whisper. She recovered herself and
continued sadly: "Until three days ago that is the only word we have
received from my father in two years."

The expression on Roddy's face was one of polite incredulity. Seeing
this, Inez, as though answering his thought, said proudly: "My father
made history when he arranged the boundary line between British Guiana
and Venezuela."

Roddy shook his head impatiently.

"I wasn't thinking of that," he said. "I was thinking of the message.
It doesn't sound a bit like your father," he exclaimed. "Not like what
_I've_ heard of him."

The eyes of the girl grew anxious with disappointment.

"Do you mean," she asked, "that you think he did _not_ send that
message?"

"It doesn't sound to me," said Roddy, "like the sort of message he
would send, knowing the pain it would cause. He isn't the sort of man
to give up hope, either. Even if it were true, why should he tell your
mother he is dying? And that epitaph!" cried Roddy excitedly.
"_That's_ not like him, either! It is not modest." With sudden
eagerness he leaned toward her. "_Did_ your father write history?" he
demanded.

Unable to see the purpose of his question, the girl gazed at him in
bewilderment. "Why, of course," she answered.

"And does any part of it refer to Porto Cabello?"

After a moment of consideration Inez nodded. "The third chapter," she
said, "tells of the invasion by Sir Francis Drake."

"'Chapter three, page fifty-four, paragraph four!'" shouted Roddy.
"I'll bet my head on it! Don't you see what he has done?" he cried.
"He sent you the key before he sent you the cipher. The verbal message
is the key to the written one. They gave him a chance to send word to
your mother, and he took it. He told her he was dying only that he
might give her a direction, apparently about an epitaph, a boastful
epitaph. He never boasted while he was alive--why should he boast on
his tombstone? His real message is this: 'Look in the history I wrote
of Venezuela, on page fifty-four, paragraph four,' and when we have
found it," cried Roddy, "we'll have found the way to get him out of
prison!"

Inez was not convinced, but his enthusiasm was most inspiriting.

"We have the history at the house," she cried, "and I know you can
find it in the Spanish bookstore in Willemstad. I must go at once."

She moved forward, greatly excited, her eyes lit with the happiness of
this new hope. Roddy ran to brin