nment has nothing to do with the matter. All that can be
settled afterward."

"One last request, General Serano--give me forty-eight hours to
communicate with General Weyler."

"Oh, as it will be the same in the end, you may have the forty-eight
hours."

He turned to the jailer, who had watched the opening of the wall in
wonder. "Take the prisoners to another cell where they cannot find a
secret passage."

As the boys were being led from the cell they passed the interpreter,
who smiled genially at them. Harry could scarcely refrain from showing
him how much he despised him.

CHAPTER XX

CAPTAIN DYNAMITE TO THE RESCUE

Consul Wyman sat in his study in deep thought. His heart was heavy and
in his mind plan after plan to save the boys from their threatened fate
was formed, only to be abandoned as not feasible. His wife sat with him
aiding now and then by a suggestion. She, too, was deeply interested in
the fate of the American boys, of whose adventures and self-sacrifice
her husband had told her.

"Everything falls to the ground, Annie," he said finally. "There is only
one hope and that is an appeal to the government."

"But you know the red tape and delay that means, John," said his wife.

"We have forty-eight hours from dawn to-morrow."

"Far too short a time to reach Washington through Spanish sources, I
fear."

"I believe you are right."

"And you cannot stir Serano?"

"He is adamant."

"Then I can see nothing but an appeal to Weyler."

"There is scarcely time for that."

"There can be no delay."

"But the courier. I know of no one whom I can trust and who would act in
the boys' interests. It is a diplomatic mission. There must be neither
pleading nor threatening."

"Then you must go, John."

"That is what I have been thinking, my dear. I am glad you see it in the
same way."

"When will you start?"

"Within an hour. If you will leave me now, I will prepare a brief to
present to General Weyler."

Mrs. Wyman left the room and the consul drew his chair closer to his
desk where a student lamp burned. The room was large, opening by a
casement window upon a garden filled with luxuriantly growing plants and
shrubs. The night was warm and the window stood open, admitting the
heavy perfume of flowers. The lamp, which was the only light in the
room, cast a bright circle on the desk. All the rest of the apartment
was in deep shadow.

Mr. Wyman had been writing about half an hour when h