CHAPTER IV
A DELAYED LETTER
But Mr. Alcando, to Americanize his name, didnot faint. After reeling uncertainly for a moment, he obtainedcommand of his muscles, straightened up, and stood rigid.
"I--I beg your pardons," he said, faintly, as though he hadcommitted some blunder. "I--I fear I am not altogether myself."
"Shouldn't wonder but what you were a bit played out," put inHank. "What we've just gone through with was enough to knockanyone out, to say nothing of the crack you got on the head. Maybewe'd better get a doctor?" and his voice framed a question, as helooked at Joe and Blake.
"No, no!" hastily exclaimed the Spaniard, for he was of thatnationality, though born in South America, as the boys learnedlater.
"I do not require the services of a physician," went on Mr.Alcando, speaking rapidly. "I am perfectly all right now--or, Ishall be in a few moments. If I had a drink of water--"
His voice trailed off feebly, and he looked about ratherhelplessly.
"There used to be a spring hereabouts," said Hank, "but I haven'tbeen this way in some time, and--"
"I know where it is!" interrupted Blake. He and Joe, with atraining that had made it necessary for them to "size up," andknow intimately their surroundings, for use in taking movingpictures, had sensed the location of a bubbling spring of purewater along the road on their first visit to it. "It's right overhere; I'll get some," Blake went on.
"If you will be so kind," spoke the Spaniard, and he extended acollapsible drinking cup.
Blake lost little time in filling it, and soon after drinking Mr.Alcando appeared much better.
"I am sorry to give all this trouble," the Spaniard went on, "butI have seemed to meet with considerable number of shocks to-day.First there was the runaway, which I certainly did not expect, andthen came the sudden stop--a stop most fortunate for us, I takeit," and he glanced, not without a shudder, in the direction ofthe gulch where the dead horse lay.
"And then you pulled us back from the brink--the brink of death,"he went on, and his voice had in it a tone of awe, as well asthankfulness. "I can not thank you now--I shall not try," he wenton. "But some time, I hope to prove--
"Oh, what am I saying!" he broke in upon himself. "I neverdreamed of this. It is incomprehensible. That I should meet youso, you whom I--"
Once more his hands went to his head with a tragic gesture, andyet it did not seem that he was in physical pain. The cut on hishead had stopped bleeding.
"It is too bad! Too bad! And yet fate would have it so!" hemurmured after a pause. "But that it should turn in such a queercircle. Well, it is fate--I must accept!"
Joe and Blake looked at each other, Blake with slightly raisedeyebrows, which might mean an implied question as to the man'ssanity. Then the moving picture boys looked at Hank, who haddriven them about on several excursions before they bought themotor cycle.
Hank, who stood a little behind the Spaniard, shrugged hisshoulders, and tapped his head significantly.
"But I must again beg your pardon," said Mr. Alcando quickly. "Imost certainly am not myself this day. But it is the surprise ofmeeting you whom I came to seek. Now, if you will pardon me," andhe looked at the letter, addressed to Blake and Joe jointly--whichepistle had been handed to him after it had been picked up fromthe ground.
"And were you really looking for us?" asked Joe, much puzzled.
"I was--for both of you young gentlemen. My friend the driver herecan testify to that."
"That's right," said Hank. "This gentleman came in on the New Yorkexpress, and went to our livery stable. He said he wanted to comeout to Baker's farm and meet you boys.
"I happened to be the only one around at the time," Hank went on,"and as I knew the road, and knew you boys, I offered to bring himout. But I wish I'd had some other horse. I sure didn't count onRex running away.
"And when I found I couldn't stop him, and knew we were headed forthe broken bridge--well, I wanted to jump out, but I didn't dare.And I guess you felt the same way," he said to Mr. Alcando.
"Somewhat, I must confess," spoke the Spaniard, who, as I havesaid, used very good English, though with an odd accent, which Ishall not attempt to reproduce.
"And then came the smash," went on Hank, "and I didn't expect, anymore than he did, that you fellows would come to our rescue. Butyou did, and now, Mr. Alcando, you can deliver your letter."
"And these really are the young gentlemen whom I seek?" asked theSpaniard. "Pardon me, I do not in the least doubt your word," headded with a formal bow, "but it seems so strange."
"We are the moving picture boys," answered Blake with a smile,wondering what the letter could contain, and, wondering more thanever, why a missive from the Film Theatrical Company should bebrought by this unusual stranger.
"Then this is for you," went on Mr. Alcando. "And to think thatthey saved my life!" he murmured.
"Shall I read it, Joe?" asked Blake, for the Spaniard extended theletter to him.
"Sure. Go ahead. I'll listen."
Blake took the folded sheet from the envelope, and his firstglance was at the signature.
"It's from Mr. Hadley!" he exclaimed.
"What's up?" asked Joe, quickly.
Blake was reading in a mumbling tone, hardly distinguishable.
"Dear boys. This will introduce--um--um--um--who is desirous oflearning the business of taking moving pictures. He comes to mewell recommended--um--um" (more mumbles). "I wish you would do allyou can for him--um--and when you go to Panama--"
That was as far as Blake read. Then he cried out:
"I say, Joe, look here! I can't make head nor tail of this!"
"What is it?" asked his chum, looking over; his shoulder at theletter the Spaniard had so strangely brought to them.
"Why, Mr. Hadley speaks of us going to Panama. That's the firstwe've had an inkling to that effect. What in the world does hemean?"
"I hope I have not brought you bad news in a prospective trip towhere the great canal will unite the two oceans," spoke theSpaniard in his formal manner.
"Well, I don't know as you'd call it _bad_ news," said Blake,slowly. "We've gotten sort of used to being sent to the ends ofthe earth on short notice, but what gets me--excuse me for puttingit that way--what surprises me is that this is the first Mr.Hadley has mentioned Panama to us."
"Is that so?" asked Mr. Alcando. "Why, I understood that you knewall about his plans."
"No one knows _all_ about Hadley's plans," said Joe in a lowvoice. "He makes plans as he goes along and changes them in hissleep. But this one about Panama is sure a new one to us."
"That's right," chimed in Blake.
"We were speaking of the big ditch shortly before the runaway camepast," went on Blake, "but that was only a coincidence, of course.We had no idea of going there, and I can't yet understand what Mr.Hadley refers to when he says we may take you there with us, toshow you some of the inside workings of making moving pictures."
"Did you read the letter all the way through?" Joe asked.
"No, but--"
"Perhaps I can explain," interrupted the Spaniard. "If you willkindly allow me. I came to New York with an express purpose inview. That purpose has now suffered--but no matter. I must notspeak of that!" and there seemed to be a return of his queer,tragic manner.
"I am connected with the Equatorial Railroad Company," he resumed,after a momentary pause, during which he seemed to regain controlof himself. "Our company has recently decided to have a series ofmoving pictures made, showing life in our section of the SouthAmerican jungle, and also what we have done in the matter ofrailroad transportation, to redeem the jungle, and make it morefit for habitation.
"As one of the means of interesting the public, and, I may say,in interesting capitalists, moving pictures were suggested. Theidea was my own, and was adopted, and I was appointed to arrangethe matter. But in order that the right kind of moving picturesmight be obtained, so that they would help the work of ourrailroad, I decided I must know something of the
details--how thepictures are made, how the cameras are constructed, how thepictures are projected--in short all I could learn about thebusiness I desired to learn.
"My company sent me to New York, and there, on inquiry, I learnedof the Film Theatrical Company. I had letters of introduction, andI soon met Mr. Hadley. He seems to be in charge of this branch ofthe work--I mean outdoor pictures."
"Yes, that's his line," said Joe. "Mr. Ringold attends to thedramatic end of it. We have done work for both branches."
"So I was told," went on Mr. Alcando. "I asked to be assigned ateacher, and offered to pay well for it. And Mr. Hadley at oncesuggested that you two boys would be the very ones who could bestgive me what I desired.
"He told me that you had just returned from the dangers of theMississippi flood section, and were up here resting. But I made sobold upon myself to come here to entreat you to let me accompanyyou to Panama."
Mr. Alcando came to a stop after his rather lengthy and excitedexplanation.
"But Great Scott!" exclaimed Blake. "We don't know anything aboutgoing to _Panama_. We haven't the least idea of going there, andthe first we've heard of it is the mention in this letter youbring from Mr. Hadley."
"It sure is queer," said Joe. "I wonder if any of our mail--"
He was interrupted by the sound of rapid footsteps, and afreckle-faced and red-haired boy, with a ragged straw hat, and noshoes came running up.
"Say--say!" panted the urchin. "I'm glad I found you. Here's aletter for you. Pa--pa--he's been carryin' it around in hispocket, and when he changed his coat just now it dropped out. Hesent me down with it, lickity-split," and the boy held out anenvelope bearing a special delivery stamp. Blake took the missivemechanically.
The Moving Picture Boys at Panama; Or, Stirring Adventures Along the Great Canal Page 4
