To the officer's request that we be admitted to the presence of the Captain, he responded briefly that that officer had gone forward half an hour before.

My guide glanced about as if uncertain where he had better turn in search.
"Did he go down the hatch ?" he queried shortly.
"I know not, Senor Gonzales," was the respectful reply.

"But I believe he may be with the prisoners' guard below." The officer promptly started forward, and, awaiting no formal invitation, I shambled briskly after, keeping as close as possible to his heels.

Could I gain a brief glimpse below the deck it would be worth more to me than any amount of blind questioning, and my heart thumped painfully in remembrance of what hung upon his movements.

With a single sharp word to the sentry at the hatch he swung himself carelessly over the edge, mysteriously disappearing into the gloom beneath.