first shed the Spaniard called a
peon and gave him an order Dick did not catch. Then he showed Dick the
cranes, and the trucks that ran along the wharf on rails, and how they
weighed the bags of coal. After a time they went into a shed that was
nearly empty and Dick carefully looked about. Several peons were at work
upon the bags, but Oliva was not there. Dick wondered whether he had been
warned to keep out of sight.

As they went back to the office, his companion looked over the edge of
the wharf and spoke to a seaman on the tug below. Her fires were out and
the hammering that came up through the open skylights indicated that work
was being done in her engine-room. Then one of the workmen seemed to
object to something another said, for Dick heard "No; it must be
tightened. It knocked last night."

He knew enough Castilian to feel sure he had not been mistaken, and the
meaning of what he had heard was plain. A shaft-journal knocks when the
bearings it revolves in have worn or shaken loose, and the machinery must
have been running when the engineer heard the noise. Dick thought it
better to light a cigarette, and was occupied shielding the match with
his hands when the manager turned round. A few minutes later he stated
that as it was a long way to Santa Brigida he must start soon and after
some Spanish compliments the other let him go.

He followed the hill road slowly in a thoughtful mood. The manager had
been frank, but Dick suspected him of trying to show that he had nothing
to hide. Then he imagined that a quantity of coal had been shipped since
the previous day, and if the tug had been at sea at night, she must have
been used for towing lighters. The large vessel he had seen was obviously
a passenger boat, but fast liners could be converted into auxiliary
cruisers. There were, however, so far as he knew, no enemy cruisers in
the neighborhood; indeed, it was supposed that they had been chased off
the seas. Still, there was something mysterious about the matter, and he
meant to watch the coaling company and Kenwardine.

CHAPTER XVIII

DICK GETS A WARNING

On the evening of one pay-day, Dick took a short cut through the
half-breed quarter of Santa Brigida. As not infrequently happens in old
Spanish cities, this unsavory neighborhood surrounded the cathedral and
corresponded in character with the localities known in western America as
"across the track." Indeed, a Castilian proverb bluntly plays upon the