A cry of horror burst from his lips as he dragged it out. The lock was
broken, and the sides were flapping apart. For one brief second he
stared at it like a madman, and then, with frantic haste, he fell on his
knees, and, plunging his hands inside, began to toss the contents
recklessly out upon the floor. Toilet articles, linen, cigars,
writing-paper, jewelry, and various other things piled up until his
finger nails scraped the bottom. He turned the case bottom up and shook
it savagely, shook it until the silver clasps rattled against the sides,
and then he sank back with a groan, while the drops of perspiration
chased each other down his haggard cheeks.

The precious despatches were gone.

For the time being Guy was fairly driven out of his senses by the horror
of the calamity. Ruin stared him in the face. What madness it was to
leave those papers in his cabin! He had foolishly hesitated to carry
them on his person for fear the perspiration would soak them through and
through, and now they were hopelessly lost. The cabin door had been
locked, too. The thief must have had a key.

The first shock over, his manliness asserted itself, and he took a
critical view of the situation. He hardly suspected any person as yet.
The despatches must be recovered. That was the first step.

He flew up the stairs, three at a time, and rushed panting and
breathless upon deck.

All about him was the hurry and bustle of preparation. The shore was
close at hand, and the steamer was moving toward the rude wharf. Manuel
Torres was leaning over the rail, coolly smoking a cigar. The captain
stood near by, gazing intently at the shore. He looked up with wonder as
Guy appeared, crying out in hoarse tones:

"I have been robbed, captain, treacherously robbed. Documents of the
greatest importance have been stolen from my cabin, and not a soul shall
leave this steamer till every inch of it has been searched. I demand
your assistance, sir!"

CHAPTER II.

A STRANGE MEETING.

Torres looked up in apparent surprise from his cigar, and the captain's
ruddy face flashed a shade deeper.

"Are you sure, sir?" he cried. "This is a strange place for a robbery."

Guy turned on him hotly.

"A robbery has been committed, nevertheless, and the articles stolen are
despatches for the governor of Zaila. They were intrusted to me for
delivery, and I look to you to recover them."

"Ah! Government despatches, were they?" said the captain. "Just