A WARNING
"What is the matter?" asked Mr. Alcando, as he noted Blake's
intent look. "Is something--?" He did not finish.
"That sound--in the film-case--" began Blake.
"Oh, my alarm clock--yes!" exclaimed the Spaniard. "I take it out
with me on my trips. Often, when I have finished taking pictures,
I try to do a little work on it. There is one feature I can't seem
to perfect, and I hope some day to stumble on it. Without it the
clock is a failure. I had it with me to-day, but I could make no
progress--none at all. I think I shall put it away again," and
taking with him the case, from which came that curious ticking
noise, he went to his stateroom.
Blake shook his head. He did not know what to think.
"He'll never make a good moving picture operator," he said to
himself. "You've got to give your whole mind to it, and not be
monkeying with inventions when you set out to get views. An alarm
clock!
"Suppose he does perfect it? There are enough on the market now,
and I don't believe there's a fortune in any of 'em. He might much
better stick to what he set out to learn. Well, it isn't any of my
business, I suppose. Joe and I have done all we can."
Several times after this the Spaniard went off by himself, to make
simple moving picture views with the little camera. But, whether
or not he took along the curious brass-bound box, with the metal
projections, which he said was an alarm clock, was something Blake
or Joe could not discover. For Blake had told Joe of Alcando's
confession.
Certainly if Alcando did take his model with him, he did not wind
it up until leaving the boys, for no ticking sound came from the
case.
The Canal was now as it had been before the big slide. Vessels
were passing to and fro, though in some parts of the waterway much
finishing work remained to be done. Blake and Joe took some views
of this, and also "filmed" the passage of the various ships to
make their pictures of wider appeal when they would be shown at
the Panama Exposition. Mr. Alcando did his share, and, for a time
seemed to show a great interest in his work, so that Blake had
hopes the Spaniard would really become a good operator. But
something was always lacking, and it was not altogether effort on
the part of the pupil.
The time was approaching when Blake and Joe must bring their work
to an end. They had accomplished what they set out to do, and word
came back from New York, where their films had been sent for
development, that they were among the best the boys had ever
taken.
"Well, I will soon be leaving you," said Mr. Alcando to the chums,
one day. "I have heard from my railroad firm, and they are anxious
for me to come back and begin making pictures there."
"His friends are going to be sadly disappointed in him," thought
Blake. "It's too bad. He'll make a failure of those views. Well,
if he does they may send for Joe and me, and that will be so much
more business for us, though I'm sorry to see him make a fizzle of
it."
But Mr. Alcando appeared to have no fears on his own account. He
was cheerfully optimistic.
"I shall want several cameras, of different kinds," he said to the
boys. "Perhaps you can recommend to me where to get some."
"Yes," spoke Joe. "We'll help you pick them out if you are going
back to New York."
"I am not so sure of that," the Spaniard said. "I will know in a
few days when I hear from my railroad friends. I expect a letter
shortly."
There was some little delay in getting the pictures Blake wanted
of the Gatun Dam. Certain work had to be done, and Blake wanted to
show the complete and finished structure. So he decided to wait.
About a week after the above conversation with Mr. Alcando, the
Spaniard came to the boys, waving an open letter in his hand. The
mail had just come in, bringing missives to Blake and Joe. Some
were of a business nature, but for each boy there was an envelope,
square and of delicate tint--such stationery as no business man
uses. But we need not concern ourselves with that. We all have our
secrets.
"I have my marching orders," laughed the Spaniard. "I leave you
this week, for my own particular jungle. Now I must arrange to get
my cameras."
"We'll help you," offered Joe, and then, with the catalogue of a
moving picture supply house before them, the boys sat down to plan
what sort of an outfit would best be suited to the needs of Mr.
Alcando. He was not limited as to money, it was evident, for he
picked out the most expensive cameras possible to buy.
"I wish you boys would come and see me, when I get to work taking
views along our railroad line," he said. "It isn't altogether a
selfish invitation," he added with a laugh, "for I expect you
could give me good advice, and correct some of my mistakes."
"I'm afraid we won't get a chance to go to South America," Blake
answered.
With a tentative list of what he needed, Mr. Alcando went to write
a letter to his railroad officials, asking them to order his
outfit for him.
As Blake pushed back his chair, intending to leave the cabin to
seek his own stateroom, he saw, on the floor, a piece of paper.
Idly he picked it up, and, as he saw it was part of a letter to
the Spaniard he folded it, to hand to him. But, as he did so he
caught sight of a few words on it. And those words made him stare
in wonder. For Blake read:
"Stuff is all ready for you. You had better do the job and get
away. There is some fine scenery in Europe."
Saying nothing to his chum about it, Blake went with the letter
toward the Spaniard's stateroom. He was not in, but Blake put the
paper on a desk, with some others, and came out hastily.
"I wonder what that meant?" he thought to himself. "That must
have been his orders to come back to Brazil and make the pictures.
But if he goes at it that way--just to do the job and get away, he
won't have much success. And to think of going to make films of
European scenery when he isn't really capable of it."
"Well, some of these foreigners think they know it all when they
have only a smattering of it," mused Blake. "Though Alcando isn't
as bad that way as lots of others. Well, we've done our best with
him. And how unjust all our suspicions were--Joe's and mine. I
wonder what he really did think he was up to, anyhow?"
The next day Blake and Joe were busy making many important views
of the big dam, which held back the waters of the Chagres River,
creating Gatun Lake. The Spaniard, too, was busy with his
preparations for leaving. He was away from the boys nearly all
day, coming back to the boat, which they made their headquarters,
in the evening.
"Get any pictures?" asked Blake. "If you have we'll pack up your
reel and send it to New York with ours. Where's the little camera
and case?"
Mr. Alcando stopped short, as though struck.
"By Jove!" he cried. "I left it out at the dam. I was making some
views there, and used up all the film. Then I got to working on my
alarm clock, and forgot all about the camera and film case. I left
them out there, and my clock, too. I'll go right back and get
them!"
He turned to leave the cabin, but, as he did so, Captain Wiltsey
entered. He paid no attention to the Spaniard, but, addressing
Blake and Joe said:
"Boys, I have a little task for you. Have you any flash-light
powder?"
"Flash-light powder? Yes, we have some," Blake said. "But we can't
use it for moving pictures. It doesn't last long enough."
"Perhaps it will last long enough for what I want," the captain
said.
"If you'll excuse me, I'll go back and get the camera I was so
careless as to leave out," spoke Mr. Alcando.
"I'm glad he's gone," Captain Wiltsey said, as the cabin door
closed. "I'd rather tell this to just you boys. I've just had a
queer warning," he said.
"A warning?" repeated Joe.
"Yes, about Gatun Dam. There's a rumor that it is going to be
destroyed!"