munition. But I want to get into Guayaquil, and this is the only way I can do it!"
For the first time Tankred turned and studied him.
"What d' you want to get into Guayaquil for?" he finally demanded. Blake knew that nothing was to be gained by beating about the bush.
"There 's a man I want down there, and I 'm going down to get him!"
"Who is he?"
"That 's my business," retorted Blake.
"And gettin' into Guayaquil 's your business!" Tankred snorted back.
"All I 'm going to say is he 's a man from up North—and he 's not in your line of business, and never was and never will be!"
"How do I know that?"
"You 'll have my word for it!"
Tankred swung round on him.
"D' you realize you 'll have to sneak ashore in a lancha and pass a double line o' patrol? And then crawl into a town that 's reekin' with yellow-jack, a town you 're not likely to
