"You are for San Blanco with supplies?--and--and--ah!" The Admiral
completed his sentence with a significant shrug of the shoulder. Dan
was equally cautious.
"We were putting in for water, for fresh water," he said. "Our
condenser's filled with bread crumbs or something, and we can't make
enough for our boilers, let alone drinking."
With an ample shrug of his shoulders, the Spaniard suggested that the
Captain might obtain all the water he wished if he would go in, leaving
his cargo outside. And then, as though weary of the subject, he turned
to more congenial topics. He thirsted for good wine; that fact was
early elucidated, after which he rambled along indefinitely, allowing
Dan to gather that all the officers of the fleet were also thirsting
for wine. At last he came straight to the point.
"A case--a dozen bottles--it would suffice--it would be
appreciated--ah!"
Dan had an idea, and began to build upon it forthwith.
"Admiral," he said, "there is much of what you seek aboard. As you
well know, Senor Howland never travels with empty lockers--there is
much of a certain wine that sparkles--see?"
"I see, but I do not hear what I mean," replied the perplexed Admiral,
indulging nevertheless in anticipatory internal gratulations.
"Why, hang it, man, champagne!" The Admiral's beady eyes danced.
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