There was no one in the room except the young South American
railroad man, but there was the odor of a strong cigar in the
apartment, and Blake noticed this with surprise for, some time
before, Mr. Alcando had said he did not smoke.

The inference was, then, that he had had a visitor, who was
smoking when the boys knocked, but there was no sign of the caller
then, except in the aroma of the cigar.

He might have gone into one of the other rooms that opened from
the one into which the boys looked, for Mr. Alcando had a suite in
the hotel. And, after all, it was none of the affair of Blake or
Joe, if their new friend had had a caller.

"Only," said Blake to Joe afterward, "why was he in such a hurry
to get rid of him, and afraid that we might meet him?"

"I don't know," Joe answered. "It doesn't worry me. You are too
suspicious."

"I suppose I am."

Mr. Alcando welcomed the boys, but said nothing about the delay in
opening his door, or about the visitor who must have slipped out
hastily. The Spaniard was glad to see Blake and Joe, and glad to
learn that they would soon start for Panama.

"I have much to do, though, in what little time is left," he said,
rapidly arranging some papers on his table. As he did so, Blake
caught sight of a small box, with some peculiar metal projections