“I can’t give you all my reasons in detail. It would take too long. But we will inquire at the wharf, and I think we shall find that he went on the _Spangled Star_, pretending he was Jabez Portersham.” “Pretending he was I?” put in the acting governor. “I don’t understand.” “You will later,” answered Nick. “There’s a telephone on the floor, Patsy. It was knocked off the table when we shoved it away. See if you can get the agent of the steamship line, will you?” “Sure!” replied Patsy, glad to have something to do. There was ten minutes at the telephone, and Patsy announced that Mr. Portersham had been a passenger on the steamer _Spangled Star_, which left at ten o’clock the night before. “The blackguard!” ejaculated Portersham, adding something under his breath that was rather strong, but hardly to be wondered at in the circumstances. “You’ll follow him up, won’t you?” The eyes of Nick Carter narrowed, and his firm jaw seemed to take on additional hardness, as he replied: “I have business with that fellow, John Garrison Rayne, Mr. Portersham, that has brought me all the way from New York. That is the only reason I am here. When I do round him up--as I will before he is a month older--I’ll make him answer for all that he has done. That means that you will be avenged, I assure you.” “You will have to go to New York after him, I suppose?” “That is where we must look first,” returned Nick. Portersham clenched his fists, and, although weakened by his many hours of torturing confinement, he showed an energy which would become more powerful as he regained his strength. “I wish I could go with you, Mr. Carter,” he said. “I don’t mind a straight fight. But this----” The telephone bell rang. Patsy whipped the receiver off the hook and shouted “Hello!” “What’s that?” he went on, into the instrument. “You say she’s in trouble? Got a wireless?” He turned to those in the room, putting a hand over the transmitter. “Gee!” he ejaculated. “Here’s more of it! Well, what do you think of that?” “What?” demanded Chick. “Great Cæsar! Wouldn’t that jar you?” was all Patsy responded, as he turned again to the telephone. He listened a few moments. Then, as he clapped the receiver on the hook, he announced, trying to speak calmly: “The steamer _Spangled Star_ is in trouble a hundred miles out. One of her engines has broken down, and she is limping back to port as well as she can with the other.” “What? To San Juan?” demanded Chick. “Sure!” replied Patsy. “That’s good. We’ll be there to meet her when she comes in,” said Nick Carter, with a smile that was partly a vengeful frown. CHAPTER XII. A PRESENT FOR SAN JUAN. The steamer _Spangled Star_, very lame, with only one engine working, and with her propeller finding it difficult to urge her along on a straight course, came into San Juan harbor, wabbling toward her wharf.