he took the part of the epistle Blake held out to him.

As he did so Mr. Alcando himself had a glimpse of the words Blake
had thought so strange. The foreigner must have, in a manner,
sensed Blake's suspicions, for he said, quickly:

"That is what it is not to know your wonderful American language.
I, myself, have much struggles with it, and so do my friends. I
had written to one of them, saying I expected to go to Panama, and
he writes in his poor English, that he hopes I do go, and that I
get all the pictures I can, especially big ones."

He paused for a moment, looking at Blake sharply, the boy thought.
Then the Spaniard went on:

"Only, unfortunately for him, he does not yet know the difference
between 'guns' and 'ones.' What he meant to say was that he hoped
I would get big pictures--big ones, you know. And I hope I do. I
suppose you do take big moving pictures--I mean pictures of big
scenes, do you not?" and he included Joe in the question he asked.

"Oh, yes, we've taken some pretty big ones," Blake's chum
admitted, as he thought of the time when they had so recently been
in the flooded Mississippi Valley, and when they had risked danger
and death in the jungle, and in earthquake land.

"Though, I suppose," went on Mr. Alcando, as he folded the part of
a letter Blake had picked up, "I suppose there are big guns at
Panama--if one could get pictures of them--eh?" and again he
looked sharply at Blake--for what reason our hero could not