will be pleased to give you a letter to a lawyer friend of mine in Santiago. Come to-morrow"
"Can't you give me the letter now?" interrupted Dick.
"Ah, Senor Hamilton, such haste! Already the band is playing, and I"
"If I can't get the letter now, I'll have to leave without it, Senor Hondora. I'm in a hurry!"
"Ah, Santa Maria!" The lawyer's head nearly disappeared amid his shoulders, so high did he lift them, and his eyebrows were a half-circle, but he sat down, and slowly wrote out a letter by hand, giving it to Dick.
"Don't you use a typewriter?" asked the young millionaire.
"A typewriter? The saints forbid! It is too rapid—too—er—what you Americans call swift," explained the attorney, with a smile. "There is no need of such haste," and pocketing the generous fee which Dick paid, the lawyer bowed our hero out, with a look of relief on his face.
Five minutes later Don Ferdinand Hondora was in his carriage, riding slowly on his way to the plaza, to hear the band play, while Dick was hurrying toward his yacht.
"Well, the first part of my search ended in failure," he said. "Now to try Santiago."
That night the Albatross put to sea, on her cruise to the other side of Cuba.
