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In his relief and great elation over his discovery, the man shed the characteristic watchfulness that usually marked his movements. He momentarily had dropped his guard, and did not notice that his every action had been closely followed from the moment he had arrived in La Trinité.

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The cablegram was short and to the point.

MAY I BORROW MY FAVORITE NEPHEW FOR A COUPLE OF WEEKS STOP URGENT.

It was signed, “Charles Keene,” and had been sent from Willemstad, Curaçao, in the Netherlands Antilles.

Biff Brewster, the favorite nephew referred to in the cablegram, looked at his parents hopefully.

“Well, Martha, what do you think?” Thomas Brewster asked Biff’s mother, as the three of them stood in Mr. Brewster’s study.

“Oh dear! I really don’t know what to say.” A frown spread over Mrs. Brewster’s pleasant, friendly face, drawing her arched eyebrows closer together. “It seems to me that Biff is away from home so much of the time.”

“I know, dear. But you must admit that we have encouraged these trips. I still feel that travel is as important to a boy’s education as his formal schooling,” Tom Brewster replied to his wife’s mild protest.