determine.

"Oh, yes, there are big guns down there," said Joe. "I forget
their size, and how far they can hurl a projectile. But we're not
likely to get a chance to take any pictures, moving or otherwise,
of the defenses. I fancy they are a sort of government secret."

"I should think so," spoke Blake, and there was a curious
restraint in his manner, at which Joe wondered.

"Yes, we probably won't get much chance to see the big guns," went
on the Spaniard. "But I am content if I learn how to become a
moving picture operator. I shall write to my friend and tell him
the difference between the word 'one' and 'gun.' He will laugh
when he finds out his mistake; will he not?" and he glanced at
Blake.

"Probably," was the answer. Blake was doing some hard thinking
just then.

"But so you have decided to go to the Canal?" asked the Spaniard,
when he had collected his scattered papers.

"Yes, we are going down there," answered Blake, "and as Mr. Hadley
wishes you to go along, of course we'll take you with us, and
teach you all we know."

"I hope I shall not be a burden to you, or cause you any trouble,"
responded the Spaniard, politely, with a frank and engaging smile.