“Well, what do you think of him now?” asked Joe, as he sat down, for both he and Blake were tired, there having been much to do that day.

“Why, he seems all right,” was the slowly-given answer.

“Nothing more suspicious; eh?”

“No, I can’t say that I’ve seen anything.  Of course it was queer for him to have someone in his room that time, and to get rid of whoever it was so quickly before we came in.  But I suppose we all have our secrets.”

“Yes,” agreed Joe.  “And he certainly can’t do enough for us.  He is very grateful.”

This was shown in every way possible by the Spaniard.  More than once he referred to the saving of his life in the runaway accident, and he never tired of telling those whom he met what the boys had done for him.

It was truly grateful praise, too, and he was sincere in all that he said.  As Joe had remarked, the Spaniard could not do enough for the boys.

He helped in numberless ways in getting ready for the trip, and offered to do errands that could better be attended to by a messenger boy.  He was well supplied with cash, and it was all Joe and Blake could do to prevent him from buying them all sorts of articles for use on their trip.

Passing a sporting goods store that made a specialty of fitting out travelers who hunted in the wilds, Mr. Alcando wanted to purchase for Blake and Joe complete camping outfits, portable stoves, guns, knives, patent acetylene lamps, portable tents, automatic revolvers and all sorts of things.

“But we don’t need them, thank you!” Blake insisted.  “We’re not going to do any hunting, and we won’t camp out if we can help it.”

“Oh, but we might have to!” said Mr. Alcando, “then think how useful these outfits would be.”

“But we’d have to cart them around with us for months, maybe,” said Joe, “on the slim chance of using part of the things one night.  We don’t need ’em.”

“But I want to do something for you boys!” the Spaniard insisted.  “I am so grateful to you—­”

“We know that, by this time,” declared Blake.  “Please don’t get anything more,” for their friend had already bought them some things for their steamer trip.

“Ah, well then, if you insist,” agreed the generous one, “but if ever you come to my country, all that I own is yours.  I am ever in your debt.”

“Oh, you mustn’t feel that way about it,” Blake assured him.  “After all, you might have saved yourself.”

“Hardly,” returned the Spaniard, and he shuddered as he recalled how near he had been to death on the bridge.

But now he and Blake and Joe were safely on a steamer on their way to Panama.  The weather was getting rather cool, for though it was only early November the chill of winter was beginning to make itself felt.

“But we’ll soon be where it’s warm enough all the year around,” said Joe to Blake, as they arranged their things in the stateroom.