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k and empty and they let the matter drop. When they crossed the Adexe bight no steamer was anchored near, but a cluster of lights on the dusky beach marked the coaling wharf. "They're working late," Dick said. "Can you see the tug?" "You'd have to run close in before you could do so," Jake replied. "I expect they're trimming the coal the collier landed into the sheds." "It's possible," Dick agreed, and after hesitating for a few moments held on his course. He remembered that one can hear a launch's engines and the splash of torn-up water for some distance on a calm night. After a time, the lights of Santa Brigida twinkled ahead, and when they steamed up to the harbor both looked about. The American collier and a big cargo-boat lay with the reflections of their anchor-lights quivering on the swell, but there was no passenger liner to be seen. A man came to moor the launch when they landed, and Jake asked if the vessel he described had called. "No, senor," said the man. "The only boats I know like that are the Cadiz liners, and the next is not due for a fortnight." "Her model's a pretty common one for big passenger craft," Jake remarked to Dick as they went up the mole. "Still, the thing's curious. She wasn't at Adexe and she hasn't been here. She certainly passed us, steering for the land, and I don't see where she could have gone." Dick began to talk about something else, but next morning asked Stuyvesant for a day's leave. Stuyvesant granted it and Dick resumed: "Do you mind giving me a blank order form? I'm going to Adexe, and the storekeeper wants a few things we can't get in Santa Brigida." Stuyvesant signed the form. "There it is. The new coaling people seem an enterprising crowd, and you can order anything they can supply." Dick hired a mule and took the steep inland road; but on reaching Adexe went first to the sugar mill and spent an hour with the American engineer, whose acquaintance he had made. Then, having, as he thought, accounted for his visit, he went to the wharf and carefully looked about as he made his way to the manager's office. A few grimy peons were brushing coal-dust off the planks, their thinly-clad forms silhouetted against the shining sea. Their movements were languid, and Dick wondered whether this was due to the heat or if it was accounted for by forced activity on the previous night. A neatly built stack of coal stood beside the whitewashed sheds, but nothing suggested t
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